Emerald Eye Knight
by timefreak
Summary: A seven year old, dying Harry Potter is found by a masked mercenary. Now, a few years later, Hogwarts welcomes an eleven year old Knight, out to change the world... Crossover with a slightly non-canon Batman:The Dark Knight Rises, set in HP universe
1. Chapter One - Harry

**Chapter reposted on 14-10-13, with a few changes. It is likely the other chapters will be reposted too. No worries, just straightening out a few kinks that seemed to have developed.**

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**Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or the Batman universe. There is no money to be made from this fic.**

**Warning - There will be mentions of child abuse, although nothing graphic.**

**This fanfiction starts in Harry's first year, a year and a half after Bane dies in The Dark Knight Rises. Batman still operates in Gotham City, but doesn't play a major part. Selina Kyle does.**

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_**Emerald Eye Knight**_

_**Part One**_

**Chapter One - Harry**

The Hogwarts Express lies glistening under the stormy sky. Raindrops fall from black clouds, the atmosphere is gloomy and somber.  
Much like I feel.

Parents hurriedly hugged their children goodbye, taking refuge under the dark blue umbrellas one enterprising wizard is selling. Smoke from the engine drifts over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color dart here and there between their legs. Owls hoot to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

Gloved hands run through my hair in a vain attempt to smooth it down. Selina kneels down, her elegant black skirt rubs on the dirty platform, but I know she does not care.

"Goodbye Harry."

I hesitate, then initiate a hug, which she gladly accepts. Her strong arms tighten around me, and I breathe in her scent. Cinnamon and leather. She always smells like cinnamon and leather.

She strokes my cheek fondly. "Have fun."

I shrug. Perhaps I will.

"Goodbye... Mum."

Her smile is bright enough to light a spark in my chest. I have rarely called her that before.

"Thank you," I say simply. I could spend hours trying to express my gratitude towards her, but I cannot. I will forever be in her debt.

Selina pats my cheek and kisses it. She stands, not bothering to dust her skirt. I smile at her, a genuine smile that lights up my one green eye.

I turn towards the man holding an umbrella over us. "Thank you Mister Tonks."

He merely inclines his head in return. Ted Tonks is a good man. He has helped me a lot.

I heft my magically lightened trunk and take the few steps towards the red train at a leisurely pace, enjoying the feel of wind and rain in my face. The wind ruffles my hair, making it even more untidy.

Then the sounds cease as I board the train. Instead I can now hear the clink and thud of bags and trunks dragging over the floor, and the dull roar of children talking, shouting, laughing...

I turn and wave one last time. Selina blows me a kiss, Ted bobs the umbrella in farewell.

I step forward and am nearly bowled over by a redhead. A prefect badge is proudly displayed, his hair is neatly combed.

Red hair. Freckles. Pompous. No twin in sight. Too tall for a first year. This must be Percy Weasley, son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, staunch supporters of the light and Dumbledore.  
I have done my homework well.

"Watch where you're going," he barks out sharply. He loses his composure when he sees my eyes, then his personality reasserts itself.

I stare at him blankly.

Unable to decipher my response, Percy sticks his nose in the air and stalks away to the front of the train. I know that's where he is headed because the Prefect compartment is there. Tonks has told me so, she's a prefect herself. Although who in their right mind would make her a prefect... I pause that line of thought. Dumbledore of course.  
I suppose considering he decided to leave a baby on the doorstep of his relatives who hate him with only a letter as explanation, Tonks is actually a good choice.

Speak of the devil... There she is. Nymphadora Tonks. Bubblegum pink hair clashes horribly with her beige jacket. I think I can call her my friend.  
I don't have many friends.

"Wotcher Harry!"  
She opens her arms wide, asking for a hug.

I smile and stay where I am.

Tonks pouts and waggles her arms about in exaggerated motion, beckoning me closer. "Come on Harry, I'm not going to hurt you."

A spark of emotion flashes across my face, too fast for her to notice. Tonks can sometimes be really thick.

Her mouth forms an O as she realizes what she has just said. "I'm sorry -"

"Not a problem Miss Tonks," I say reassuringly. Her arms still haven't dropped, and with an almost inaudible sigh I step forwards and let myself into her embrace.

Her arms encircle me, and she musses up my hair.  
"You're supposed to relax into a hug," she whispers into my ear.

I try to. I really do.

"Harry?"

I gently untangle myself from Tonks' arms and turn around.

Two girls stand behind me. The one who had called my name has red hair that she wears in pigtails. Bones. Amelia Bones... Susan! Susan Bones, that's her name. This girl is looking at me.

"Miss Bones," I say, bowing gracefully.

The girl besides her is blonde, her hair hanging in a long braid. This girl is staring at me. Probably at my mismatched eyes.

Susan flushes and gestures towards her friend. "This is Hannah Abbott." She waves a hand towards me. "Hannah, that's Harry Potter."

Instantly the girls eyes flick upwards to try and find the scar. She seems star-struck, her eyes widen and she gasps audibly.

I roll my eyes and shift impatiently.

Tonks plasters a smile on her face. "Excuse us for a minute."  
Grabbing my hand, she drags me backwards.

I resist the urge to break her wrist and allow her to lead me away from the blonde girl's earshot.

"Look Harry." She sighs. "Everybody's going to stare at you like that. Try to be more polite, okay?"

I nod stiffly. "Yes Miss Tonks."

"Drop the Miss kid."

I shift uneasily. It's just the way I'm wired... Conditioned by my life at Privet Drive. I can refer to her as Tonks mentally, but when I speak... Not so easy.

The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk. "Yes... Nymphadora."

Her hair immediately turns an angry red. "Don't call me that!"

"Yes Miss Tonks."

She grins wryly and pats my head mockingly. "I'm going to find my friends. Do you want me to sit with you instead?"

I hesitate, and she picks up on it.

"I'll sit with you," she decides.

"No, its fine..." I smile. "I'll be alright."

She looks at me doubtfully. "You sure kid?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, I'll see you soon. You need anything, come look for me."

"Thank you."

"Do you want to come in?" Susan stands in the doorway of a compartment, one carriage ahead. I nod, and she backs into the compartment, leaving the door open for me.

Tonks grins and shoves me gently towards the compartment Susan and Hannah have entered. "Get in there, you have two pretty girls to talk to."

I roll my eyes. "Miss Tonks... They're eleven years old."

"So are you."

I shrug and wave, turning around. Ted tells my my soul is older than my body. Everybody tells me I'm mature for my age. Tonks says I should try and act like an eleven year old sometimes. I know I can't.

The compartment is of medium size, the seating looks comfortable enough. The windows are large, and cannot be opened.

"I am sorry for my... Brass, Miss Abbott," I say politely. I can tell from her expression that she doesn't know the meaning of 'brass' in this context, but she understands what I'm trying to convey.

"It's fine, I'm sorry too, for staring at you like that."

The train hoots loudly and abruptly begins to pull away from Platform Nine Three Quarters. The sudden movement almost causes me to lose balance.  
Of course, I am trained to be better. I compensate by swiveling a heel and dropping into the seat opposite the two girls.

"So, how do you know Susan and Tonks?" Hannah inquires.

"Her Aunt helped me in some legal matters," I reply quietly. "The same with Miss Tonks, her parents are excellent lawyers."

"Is that your natural eye colour?"

I raise my head till my eyes are boring into Hannah's blue orbs.

She immediately claps a hand over her mouth, and Susan did a facepalm.

"Ignore her," the redhead tells me apologetically.

My lips curve into a smile, and I shake my head. "No." I offer no more information, and they don't press it.

I close my eyes and try to slip into a meditative trance. I cannot. I am too worked up.

Both my eyes were once green. Dudley injured my left eye in a rather bad way. _He_ paid for an expensive operation at one of the best private eye clinics in the world. The technology used didn't react very well with my magic.  
The result was... Unexpected. My eye was cured. I had perfect vision.  
But my eye colour had changed. It is now a pale grey, almost white.

No emotion shows in my left eye. It never does.

_He... Him._

_Bane._

My rescuer. Saviour. Teacher. Trainer. Mentor. Sensei.

It has been almost four years since Bane found a small, beaten, starved, and almost-dead boy in a cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive, #4

Vernon Dursley was in thick with the shadier members of society. He had worked at Grunnings, a mob front. Vernon had embezzled huge amounts, had double-crossed many people... He eventually made a serious mistake when he didn't live up to a bargain with Bane.  
There was a list of important names, numbers, some document that Bane had wanted. That Vernon was hiding.

One sunny, perfectly normal Sunday morning, Petunia had gone out shopping, just herself and Dudley. Half an hour later, she returned to an empty house. Vernon Dursley was missing. He was found washed up at the nearest lake two days later, his neck broken.

The house was ransacked. The documents, papers Bane needed were found and taken.  
But Bane took something more with him. A child, a boy forged in the fires of inhumanity, hardened by pain and hate.  
A boy fueled by hate, by anger. An eight year old, more intelligent and mature than any child had the right to be.

Bane's men fed me, nursed me back to health. I healed impossibly fast I was told. It was my magic helping the process.  
I should have died at Privet Drive. Any normal child would have.

But I am a wizard. And a very powerful one at that.  
How do I know that? Accidental magic. I displayed accidental magic frequently, repeatedly. Only the more powerful children do it as often as I did.  
Of course, I learnt early on not to. Understanding came to me all too soon. Forced upon me, into me.  
Without magic I could not have survived. It fed me, healed me, kept me alive. And under the constant strain, it grew stronger. I am not up to the standard of the average adult wizard yet, but I am close.  
And definitely more powerful than your average eleven year old.

Bane trained me. Made me strong. Forged me into a weapon. Powerful. Agile. He helped me develop my own, special brand of martial arts. A style derived from the method of the elite of the League of Shadows. Only two men knew it - Batman and Bane. Now too, only two know. Me and Batman.  
I don't have the strength of a fully grown man. But I know how to manipulate limbs, dodge, strike with precision and grace. I have the skill, the technique.

I would have been consumed by my anger, by my hate. He taught me to use it to better myself.

But me and Bane had major differences. I could have been his successor... But I am no executioner.

I couldn't agree with his plan to damn all of Gotham. I understand the necessity of killing some people. I am not Batman, with a strict no-killing policy. Just think of all the lives he would have saved, if he was willing to break that one rule. I have killed. I felt remorse, regret for having had to do it. Not one of my three kills were unjustified.  
But I am not Bane either.

So when he outlined his plan for Gotham, to explode the entire city in a nuclear catastrophe, I told him I wouldn't do it. This was something I wouldn't come along for.  
We parted ways. I stayed behind in the small village in Florida he was using as a base of sorts. Bane moved in on Gotham.  
He told me he would relieve the world of one of its most crime-infested, pathetic civilizations, and be back.  
I owed him too much to simply run away. I would not participate, but I could not actively dissuade him.  
If I could, if I did have the power, would I have stopped him? Perhaps... I don't know.

But Bane didn't survive. A year and four months ago, Batman took him down, and just like that, the League of Shadows was headless. The organization fell, everybody scattered. I headed to Britain with Selina to find out more about my family. The Potters.

So then, what am I? Why did I accept Bane's offer to train me? Why try and become stronger, faster, more powerful?

Justice.

I hope to be an agent of justice. A Knight - not in shining armour perhaps, a darker Knight, but a Knight all the same. To combat all that is wrong - crime, evil and delusional men who seek to kill and hurt innocents.

Dark Lords.

Voldemort. He is not dead. Someday, he will be.

I focus back on the present. Susan has deflected questions from Hannah, kept her from asking anything awkward.  
Susan only knows I didn't have an ideal childhood... _Understatement._  
Tonks knows a lot more.

Around half past twelve there is a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slides back our door. "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

I shake my head. Susan and Hannah squeal and jump to their feet. They buy candy and sandwiches, and offer to share some with me. I accept a Chocolate Frog and lean back to eat it.

"What card have you got?" Susan asks me.

I turn the card over, and am met with a smiling face - a long, crooked nose, flowing silver hair hand beard, twinkling blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles.

_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_  
_CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS,_

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is_ _particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in_ _1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his_ _work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore_ _enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

I suppress a bitter laugh. "Albus Dumbledore," I reply. Unintentionally, my voice is ice cold.

Hannah stares at me oddly, then shakes her head and goes back to her sandwich.  
Susan knows Dumbledore isn't all as great as he is made out to be. Her Aunt must have told her something about the ancient headmaster.

"Keep it," the redhead says.

A while later, the door slides open, admitting two. A girl and a boy.

The girl has bushy brown hair and slightly protruding teeth, her hazel eyes dart around inquisitively.

The boy is... Pudgy. Round. And short. He looks nervous, very nervous, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hi, has anyone seen a spotted green toad? Neville here has lost his, and we're looking for it."

I stare blankly at her. Unnerved, she turns her questioning stare on the girls, who politely inform her that no, they hadn't seen a toad.

Hannah decides to be nice, and introduces herself, then asks the girl her name.

"Hermione Granger," she says.

"Susan Bones," the girl-with-red-hair pipes up.

I gather saying my name would be the socially correct thing to do here. So I do it.

"Harry Potter."

The girl let's out a startled gasp and started blabbing away at top speed. Apparently she knows all about me because I figure in some books. I am amused by how long she can jabber at high speed without any need to stop and take a breath.

Not wanting to cause a scene, I get up and slip past her, my eyes briefly flicking to the green toad nestled behind Susan's heels.

Rude, yes. I don't care.

* * *

The passageway is deserted. My hands automatically check to ascertain my weapons are in place. A holly and phoenix wand lies in its holster on my right upper- arm.  
My true-wand lies on a similar holster on my upper left-arm. Two knives are strapped to my thighs, disguised as pockets.

I fish around for my invisibility cloak and find it, pulling out the silvery material.

The invisibility cloak. My father's. I doubt I would have ever laid my eyes on it if it hadn't been for Andromeda Tonks.

Sirius Black - damn him - is Andromeda's cousin. He would visit her often, and tell her about their escapades.  
The Marauders, they were, she tells me. Four of them.

So anyway, Andromeda Tonks knew about the cloak, and when I couldn't find it in my Gringotts vault, she figured Dumbledore had it.  
It belongs to me. Dumbledore could not refuse her. He didn't.

The cloak covers me, rendering me invisible. Just a few steps away, a hatch leads to the top of the train.

The train is moving very fast now. Wind howls in my ears, whips at my face as I pull myself up and shut the hatch behind me.

My eyes scrunch to protect themselves, so I remove a pair of sunglasses and put them on.

The roof of the train is slippery from the rain. Yet my step never falters, as I carefully pick my away over to a protruding, box-like structure and sit down on it.

The rain has stopped, and bright rays of sunshine pierce through the now thin grey clouds. For a second, a rainbow is formed on the horizon, then it disappears.

Gently sloping hills rise and fall into the distance, green bushes and trees covering them. The train sends up a spray of water in it's wake, the drops almost rising to where I sit.  
Tall blades of grass sway in the wind, a lone bird spirals into an insane dive. It's too far away for me to recognize what species it is.  
I have often wondered what it would be like to be a bird. To take to the skies, to spread wings and glide, unrestricted, unencumbered... Something possible with the help of magic. Animagus - is the term, I remember.  
Then Andromeda got me a beginner's broom. I don't fly often - I can count the number of times I've flown on one hand. It's one of the few things I really enjoy. It's one of the flew pleasures I have. I can't wait to use a proper broom. She didn't get me one yet because its dangerous for a young wizard to try and use a proper broom.  
The fact that I am way above-average for an eleven year old, who has seen all sorts of things, lived through all kinds of hardships didn't factor into the equation. Not for Andromeda, nor Selina.

Of course, it could have something to do with the fact I tried this really fun dive and broke my hand.  
Well, I called it fun. Selina shouted at me so loudly I almost got a headache. She called it stupid. Insane. Crazy. Adrenaline-junkie. Words like that.  
Selina can be such a mom sometimes. I am grateful. She is definitely the closest thing to a parent that I have.

The tracks curve, and a shimmering lake appears in sight. It's placid waters reflect the grey sky, rays of sunlight sparkle on its surface, lending it an ethereal look.

_Beautiful._ I have always loved nature. It is something to enjoy, to revel in. For me, music is hearing birds in the morning, it is listening to the whispering of trees when a breeze passes.

The gentle rumbling of the train below me almost lulls me into sleep. I don't lose track of time though. I am far too disciplined for that.

About an hour later I am back in the compartment. Susan and Hannah are both asleep, the former snoring softly, almost inaudibly. The latter is drooling.  
They look so... _Innocent._

I sit and enjoy the peace and quiet. Water-tracks mark the window, distorting the view of Scottish highlands.

Ten minutes later, Tonks pops by. "Hey, where were you?"

I point a finger upwards.

She raises an eyebrow - comically so, using her metamorphmagus abilities to make it disappear into her hair.

"Heaven?" She asks sarcastically.

"The roof," I respond.

Tonks gapes at me. "The roof?" She echoes.

"The roof of the Hogwarts Express," I confirm.

"Huh." Tonks scratches her cheek as she moves over to sit by me. "I think there's a rule against that. Or perhaps not... Who even does that? I didn't even know that was possible. How?"

"I just did, Miss Tonks. There is a way. A hatch. Not very prominent, you have to observe carefully to see it."

"Tonks," she corrects automatically. "So Harry, are you excited?"

I think over this. Am I excited? Maybe... Maybe, just a little. Apprehensive? Certainly. Anxious? Yes.  
I am anxious because this is the first time I will be attending a proper school. Vernon had paid off the staff at my primary school to ignore anything I had to say. Of course, I had a horrible reputation as well in Little Whinging - courtesy of the lies the Dursley's spread.

Anyway... These are normal kids. I am not a normal kid. These children have lots of friends, they laugh, joke, make merry. They know no responsibility, most of them have fathers, mothers, brothers... Some sort of family, relatives. They can hug each other without any problem, have no problem with casual physical contact, don't constantly scan their surroundings, marking escape routes, looking for possible threats.

_Snap out of it Potter,_ I chide myself.

Tonks is still waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," I say honestly.

"Hmmm, well-"

And the compartment door burst open. The noise is almost loud enough to wake the girls. Susan makes a groaning sound, then returns to soft snoring. They must be very heavy sleepers.

A pale blond boy enters. His hair is slicked back with copious amounts of product. His robes scream wealth, he holds himself arrogantly, a sneer of sorts on his face. This must be Draco Malfoy.

His gaze falls on the two sleeping girls, and his lip curls a bit. He must have recognized Susan. Her aunt and Draco's dad don't get along very well.

Two boys flank him, standing one behind each shoulder. Both are large for first years, rather stout too.  
They look disturbingly similar, and I hope they are twins. Damn inbred wizards.

They remind me of Dudley Dursley. Instantly I know we will not get along.

I hate Dudley Dursley.

"I'm looking for Harry Potter," he announces.

"Who are you?" I ask tonelessly, even though I know who he is. He swells up. "My name is Draco Malfoy. You've probably heard of my family. Oh, and these two are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle." He waves a hands carelessly at his two... Friends? No. Bodyguards. Minions.

Idiots.

I nod slowly. "So you're the son of Lucius Malfoy."

He swells up even more. "Father is-"

Tonks interrupts him, her tone cold. "-A death eater?"

Draco's face flushed. "He was under the Imperius!"

The corner of my mouth twitches. Imperius indeed... Someday, Lucius Malfoy will get his due. All of them will, those murdering, thieving bastards that got off because of incompetent and corrupt officials... I wince inwardly, imagining the long lecture Selina would give me if she heard me say that word of profanity.

Draco takes in Tonks Muggle attire and sneers."And who are you, you..."

"My name is Tonks you ponce."

Immediately he places the name. "Tonks?" He let's out a chuckle. "You are a disgrace to the magical community, you and your mother."

Tonks eyes narrow to slits and she almost draws her wand.

"You know, if you wanted to make friends with me, you're going about it the wrong way." I comment dryly.

"Why should I offer you my friendship?" He demands to know.

I have to compliment his selection of words. Fairly refined.  
My green eye is lit up with amusement. "You wanted to make friends with Harry Potter, did you not?"

It takes him a few moments to realize that he is looking at Harry Potter.

Malfoy is completely stumped. He stutters for a bit, then goes silent, then finally regains his composure.

"I think we got off on the wrong track," he says cautiously. Then he sticks out a hand. "I can help you make the right sort of friends... There are certain elements of our society you might not want to mix with..."

"Blood traitors and muggleborns?" I inquire.

He nods uncertainly. He's probably unsure what would be my reaction to that. "There are those of us that are better than the rest, it would be do you good to learn that."

"My mother was a muggleborn. She died for me."

Once again, he has no answer. His hand wavers from the strain of holding it up for so long... Pathetic.

I sigh. "Draco... I can make my own decisions, and I will choose my own friends." Then I grasp his hand firmly... Perhaps too firmly.  
"I think you and me would be better off neutral. Not friends, not enemies. And trust me, you don't want me for an enemy."

He narrows his eyes, and I drop his hand, waving a hand towards the door in dismissal.

"A pleasure to meet you Draco," I say, though my tone does indicate it was distinctly not a pleasure.

Malfoy glares at me before withdrawing, not saying another word.

"That arrogant - " Tonks makes a sound of annoyance and anger. She gives me a wry grin. "You handled that well."

I incline my head. "Thank you, Miss Tonks."

"Just Tonks." She blows air at the window and watches as it mists over. A forefinger cuts a condensed path through the white as she draws a triangle of sorts. "He'll probably be in Slytherin. If you're going to end up there, there could be a lot of tension between the two of you."

I nod absently. I really don't care which house I go to. Wherever I go, I will be branded by the stereotype for that house. And I will break that stereotype.

I do know we don't choose our own houses. Tonks has told me that much. But she refuses to tell me how I will be sorted, and I can't be bothered to hunt for the information.

Most probably, I will land up in Slytherin. I am ambitious, ruthless. The disadvantage of that would of course, be labelled a possible Dark Lord.

Tonks and I strike up casual conversation. Or she does. I am not very good at it, even though I can be very charming if I need to be.

I once persuaded a thirty year old hooker to part with all the numbers of her last ten clients, using nothing but words.

I am very good at lying. I had to be.

* * *

I make my way once more to the roof to watch the sunset.  
I always feel at peace at these two times. Sunrise, and sunset. I rarely ever miss watching these two natural, spectacular spectacles.

I cannot see the sun, it is hidden behind the sloping hills that have been left behind. The train is now travelling through plains, high grass on both sides, tall mountains in the distance, some snowcapped even though it is September.

I watch as the sky turns darker, brilliant hues of red and purple on the horizon... Slowly yet quickly, imperceptibly the sky changes and night falls.

A blanket of stars covers the sky, and I suck in a breath at its beauty. My eyes automatically seek out Orion's belt, and try and trace the rest of the constellation.

Here in the wilderness, the stars can be easily seen, without the artificial lights in the big cities.

Lights come on in the train, and Prefects make rounds, telling everyone to get ready. Students swarm the corridors, taking turns to change into their robes.

I slip into the crowd and enter my compartment.

Really stupid of me. I should have thought that the girls would be changing.

I slam the door shut, Susan's scream bouncing around in my head. That girl has a large pair of lungs. A really large pair of lungs.

Eventually the door opens and I am allowed in. Both the girls are blushing, and Susan does seem a bit mad.

"I'm really sorry," I say quickly, even as the redhead opens her mouth to chew me out.

Susan huffs, then grins. Hannah is already out of the compartment. The redhead follows her - the two are giving me privacy to change.

And I do so.

My uniform is specially made, with enchanted pockets in which I can slip my weapons and tools.

I only take a minute, then open the door, beckoning the girls in.  
Tonks is waiting outside for me, and she takes my hand, dragging into the corridor and towards the front.

"Miss Tonks?" I ask sharply.

"There's someone you need to meet," she says eagerly. "Come on!"

Tonks leads me to a compartment towards the back of the train. Just before I slide the door open, she stops me, putting her hands on my shoulders.

"Harry?"

She waits till I'm looking at her in the eyes, then continues. "I just want you to know, that it was really hard to keep this a secret. Selina wants to let you know, that this was arranged just for you. To make you happy. Don't get mad, just be happy about it."

My curiosity is peaked. I nod slowly, and blink.

Tonks pulls away, and I slide the door open, gracefully stepping in and closing it in one smooth motion.

The compartment is empty. Except... Except for one girl. One very familiar girl.

She is sitting with my back to me, her legs propped up on the seat, stretched out. But I recognize her anyway.  
I always recognize her. I'd recognize her anywhere.

"Sally?" I whisper.

* * *

Of everything that I can thank Selina for, this girl tops the list.

Sally.

Sally is an orphan. Like me. Bane. Selina Kyle. Catwoman. Bruce Wayne. Batman. Tom Riddle. Voldemort.

A lot of really powerful people are orphans. I once made a joke about starting an orphan club. That was when Selina lectured me on different types of humour, and how that joke was totally inappropriate.

I had done the unthinkable. Some of the men used to call me Bane's Bane. Because somehow, impossibly, I had found Bane's soft spot. It wasn't all that soft. I cannot say he loved me. But he did care for me, just that little bit.  
But at the same time, he was no father figure. He trained me with little mercy. Of course, my regiment was nothing like life at the Dursley's, so I didn't find it unbearable or cruel.  
Life at #4 taught me to lock emotions away. I didn't smile. I didn't laugh. I didn't cry.

I still can't cry. I just can't do it.

Bane helped me get rid of my fear of physical touch. Selina, and to a much larger extent Sally, helped me like it - if only with them.

I am still uncomfortable with contact. I no longer flinch away, that reflex disappeared soon enough. But I am still uncomfortable.

There are only two people I am really comfortable with. Sally and Selina.

Nobody has helped me as much as Sally has. Not even Selina.  
I am still learning how to behave appropriately in society. Bane would never teach me that, or even expose my to it. Sally did.

Sally is the center of my universe. Everybody needs some sort of anchor. Even Bane had Miranda Tate. Bruce Wayne has Selina... I think. Their relationship is... Complicated?  
Mine is Sally.

It is curious how a human can be so compassionate, gentle, understanding, and yet firm, strong and unyielding at times.

"Sally?" My voice is a little louder this time, but I dislike how weak it sounds. Bane would tell me it was pathetic, that someone was allowed to have such a hold on me, if he could see this.

Bane is dead.

"Harry!" She jumps up, whirling around.

Sally is dressed the way she normally does. A plain tee-shirt, two sizes too big for her - white today. Skinny black jeans are tucked into off-white hi-tops. The carved wooden bracelet I gifted her, she wears it on her right hand. I made it myself, using a knife to inscribed patterns in treated Juniper. Sally rarely takes it off.

Dark red hair frames her face, so deep a red, its almost brown. Sally often streaks her hair some odd colour - it was electric blue last week. She hasn't dyed any part of her hair today.  
Her nose is really small. The type that you press and make weird noises.  
Her face is angular - a Russian look to her face - she does have Russian ancestry, from her dads side.  
She smiles, flashing her pearly white teeth, with slightly jutting canines - a result of a her baby teeth coming out too late.  
Stormy gray eyes dance with happiness and amusement.

I gladly accept her hug, a large smile breaking out on my face.  
When I pull away, I know I have a stupid grin on my face, but I just cannot shake it off. Strange, I normally have no trouble with controlling my expressions.

"How?" I want to know.

She motions with her head, and we sit down on the nearest seat.

Sally grins and launches into an explanation. "You left for London three weeks back. Remember I kept Hedwig behind? And you got her only last week?"

I nod. "Yes... I asked you four times to send her back, each time we called you on the landline, and you kept stalling."

"So I thought, so what if I didn't get a letter from Hogwarts? I could always join, couldn't I? At least I could ask. So I sent Hedwig to Hogwarts with a long letter, praising the school, and saying I would like to join here this year, rather than the next at Salem."

First years at Salem are twelve years old. I blink._ Go on._

"And I got a reply saying yes, I could join. So I talked to Selina, and she was a bit mad that I didn't ask her before doing this, but she agreed." Sally shudders. "She told me to wash the dishes."

I smother a chuckle. Sally hates doing the dishes.

"Mrs. Tonks bought me all the supplies I needed, except a wand. I flew into London three days back, bought myself a wand, and stayed in this fancy hotel."

"Selina was out a lot the last forty eight hours," I agree.

"Yes, well, that's the story. I came early to the station to avoid you."

"Thank you," I manage to choke out. It means a lot to me that she actually tried to join Hogwarts just so I'm not alone.  
"I convinced everybody not to tell you. I wanted to surprise you..." She trails off uncertainly. "I hope you're not angry."

"Of course not!" I protest. "I - I..."

Sally nods in understanding, and I fall silent.

I cannot believe she would do this for me. I still don't understand why she tried to help me so much, why she still does. What was it about an awkward, apathetic, abused ten year old boy that appealed to her. I voiced this once, and she just told me I had self-worth issues.

Sally can be really blunt at times.

"Mom almost told you," she informs me. "Apparently you were dull and moping around this last week because I wouldn't be at Hogwarts with you."

Sally is my best friend in the world. Knowing I would be off at Hogwarts, unable to see her for months hadn't really appealed to me.

And Sally knows. She knows that I care for her, and she knows I will do pretty much anything for her.

I trust her not to take advantage of that.  
She knows that too, and it vexes her sometimes.

"Thank you," I repeat.

She shrugs and grins, flashing me pearly white teeth. "Well, I couldn't very well let you go without me could I?"

I smile. "No."

No. _I_ couldn't.

"You look really tired."

I shrug. I have always had trouble sleeping. I have this recurring nightmare - panicked screams and high, cold laughter, a flash of green light.  
I had no idea what it meant till the day Ted and Andromeda told me what had happened on Halloween night, all those years ago.

She pats her lap. Anybody else besides her or Selina, and I would be fingering my knives.  
But I am used to this now, and I take small comfort in it.  
I end up resting my head in Sally's lap far more often than Selina's. Probably because Selina insists on wearing those awful leather pants and skirts. And because I just feel more at ease with Sally. I trust her completely. Bane would be horrified at that. He would say never trust anybody completely.

Bane is dead.

I think we still have forty five minutes before we have to disembark, so I acquiesce, dropping my head on her thighs and stretching out on the seat.

The hum of the train, Sally's fingers gently stroking my hair quickly lull me to sleep.

* * *

I dream of a large field, covered in daffodils and white roses. The sky above me is a blanket of mystic swirls of purple and blue. Waist high grass stands unnaturally still against the brisk breeze.

A large man stands in front of me. He must be at least 6 feet four. He is powerfully built, incredibly so. He wears a sleeveless black tee shirt, and a bulky fur vest on top, showcasing bulging, rippling biceps. Veins stand out on his forearms, massive fists clench and unclench.  
Camouflage pants are tucked into fur lined boots.  
A web of metal, valves and thin tubes decorate his face. The mask he wears lends character to him, defines him.

He says nothing, merely stands there, hands clasped together, fingers interlaced.

I say nothing either.

We stand there, under the azure sky, unmoving, immovable.

"I sense a powerful drive in you," Bane says slowly, his voice sounds strange through the mask. Strange, yet... Fitting. "You have a will, a will so vast it can move mountains."

I nod. I know its true. "Someday, I'll have the power to hunt down each and every child-abuser, and make them pay for what they have done. I will deliver justice to those that seek it, pain to those who deserve it."

Bane nods. "Yes," he says. "You will."

Eternity passes, then I wake to a loud sound.

* * *

A voice echoes through the train:** "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."**

Gracefully I straighten up, my feet hit the floor. I am instantly alert, my eyes do a cursory sweep of the surroundings

Tonks sits across us, trying to solve a Sudoku puzzle. Ever since Sally introduced her to the nine numbered brain-teaser, Tonks always roams around with a small Sudoku book in her pocket.  
Most of them are half-solved.

Sally's Hogwarts robes are laid out, and I realize she has yet to change.

"Sorry," I mutter, getting to my feet.

"Why?" She sounds amused.

"You still have to change." I reply, sliding open the door.

"Are you sure you don't want to stick around like you did for Susan?" Tonks teases.

Sally' head jerks up sharply. "What?"

I refrain from rolling my eyes, sliding the compartment door shut.

It takes Sally only a minute to change. Tonks slides the door open and beckons me in.

Sally checks her reflection in the window. Tonks eyes me critically and takes a step forward.

I take a step back.

She takes another step forward and places her hands on her hips.

I sigh and give in, moving forward._ Females_.

Tonks pulls my tie all the way up to my top button, almost choking me. She then arranges my collar, straightens my robes and pats my head in that condescendingly, just the way she knows I don't like it.

Tonks peeks out of the window. " I think the train is slowing down..."

It is, I know. I can feel it.

"Okay kids, train stops in a minute or so. Leave your trunks in the train and get off."

I straighten up, cracking my elbow joints.

Tonks grins at that, and her hair flashes from hot pink to a bright, blinding yellow, and then back to pink. She then proceeds to crack her wrists, elbows and neck.

I raise a hand. "Miss Tonks?"

Her mouth quirks, amused. "This isn't class Harry."

"Is it safe to leave our trunks behind-" I hesitate, barely. "-Tonks?"

Tonks beams at me. "Of course it is. No one's going to steal your bags, or search them..." She trails off. This has never occurred to her. Obviously.

"I'm sure this is normal Harry," Sally says dismissively. "Come on, let's go! I can feel the train slowing down."

"Your welcome!" Tonks shouts at our retreating backs.

Immediately, I stop and make to turn. Sally makes a faintly exasperated sound and waves a hand.

"She's joking Harry."

Oh right. _Joking._

The train screeched to a halt, and students pour out of compartments, spilling out onto the platform. A glowing sign informs me this place is Hogsmeade.

"Alright guys, I'll see you soon, okay? You have to go that way, Hagrid should be there, he'll call out any second..."

A man shouts out, and his voice booms out over the crowd. "FIRST 'EARS, FIRST 'EARS, FOLLOW ME!"

The sound came from exactly the opposite direction to where Tonks was pointing.

Tonks swivels one-eighty degrees. "I meant that way, actually."

Hagrid is a half-giant. That's the only explanation for his size.  
He is huge. A bulky black coat, baggy black pants, black boots makes him look even bigger. His bushy black beard reaches his chest, long, dark, scraggly hair hangs to his shoulders.

"WATCH YER STEP!" Hagrid warns us, as the ground slopes downwards.

We walk on a narrow, steep path, lined by trees. Loose soil slides from beneath my feet, the sound of pebbles being displaced reaches my ears. I never lose balance, and keep an eye out for Sally.  
I needn't have bothered, she slips only once, and steadies herself immediately. Selina has taught her well.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

We make the bend, and I stop for a second to take in the view. The narrow path opens suddenly onto the edge of a great black take.

And there, perched atop a high mountain, rises Hogwarts Castle.

* * *

**(0)**

* * *

**The next chapter will give the background information for Sally, and explain further about Harry's past four years. **

**I understand the dates of the two universes don't match in this story. For the sake of this fanfiction, I am going only by the Harry Potter dates, seeing that the fic will be centered around the Potter universe.**

**Thank you for reading. Do leave a review. Praise, concrits, questions, suggestions are all welcome.**

**Cheers,**  
**Timefreak**


	2. Chapter Two - Sally

**Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or the Batman universe. There is no money to be made from this fic.**

* * *

**(0)**

* * *

_**Emerald Eye Knight**_

_**Part One**_

**Chapter Two - Sally**

A mass of turrets and towers, black and grey stone - Hogwarts castle rises proudly out of the gloom.  
I see a long bridge, a clock tower. Most of the windows are dark, but here and there, a fiery light burns. The grounds are extensive, trees, plants and grass are carefully cultivated and well kept.

The lake is black, and almost completely still.  
Wooden boats are waiting for us. They are small, with three padded planks as seating.

Hagrid bellows out some more instructions. No more than four to a boat.

Harry smoothly jumps into the nearest boat, and holds out a hand. I accept, and he helps me onboard. The boat shakes wickedly, but he steadies me.

Another boy joins us, then a girl tries to jump aboard. Tries to. She slips, and only Harry's quick reflexes stop her from taking an unscheduled bath.

She mutters her thanks and plonks down heavily besides the other boy. Me and Harry sit together opposite them.

"Hi," I say brightly. "I'm Sally Kyle."

Sally Kyle is not the name I was born with. I've only been Sally Kyle for a year now. I've lived with Selina for almost four years. She legally adopted me last year. A certain eccentric billionaire helped her with the formalities, sped up the otherwise long, complex legal process... Considering I didn't even have a passport.

I spent the first three years of my life with my grandmother at a place in Essex. She never talked about my parents, except to tell me they were both dead. And that my mother was a Brit, and my father Russian. She was very old, and not exactly suitable to raise a child. When I was three, she gave me up to an orphanage. I was soon taken by an American couple, and moved to New Orleans.

I went by Sally Anne then. While I was living with this couple, and had been formally adopted, they didn't give me their surname. And less than a year later, the woman got pregnant, and I was moved to another orphanage.

Again, I was quickly taken, this time to a foster home in Seattle. I hated it there. The couple that adopted me already had one child, who was about four years older than me at that time. They were very strict, and used to send me to bed without meals as punishment. Their child didn't like me, and picked on me whenever he could.

And so I ran away, and joined a group of vagabond children. I grew street-smart, and traveled quite a bit for the next two years. I learnt a lot of things.

How to pick pockets. How to use a gun. How to defend myself - nothing extensive - just basic stuff. Like how to punch and kick correctly, how to use my elbows... Selina has taught me a lot more. I am nowhere near as good as Harry. Only one is, and he spends his nights on rooftops in Gotham punching villains with his bare hands.

I learnt what hunger meant. I learnt the value of a cent. I learnt to sleep in all sorts of places. I grew up pretty quickly. We are alike in that manner - me and Harry. Although, his soul is far, far older than mine.

Eventually I landed in Gotham. Gotham was far too dangerous for me to survive there, even though conditions had improved a lot since the death of Harvey Dent. I was cornered by a gang of five - I had tried to pickpocket one of them, and they weren't too happy.  
That was when Selina showed up and rescued me.  
We clicked instantly, and formed a strong bond. Almost three year later, I was Sally Kyle.

I realize that the girl opposite me has spoken. This happens to me sometimes. I get caught up in thought, completely losing focus of my surroundings.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. "I spaced out there, what's your name again?"

"Fay Dunbar," she answers. Her fingers are tightly clenched around her seat - her knuckles are white. She obviously doesn't like boats. I feel for her, I know what motion-sickness can be like. I get air-sick.

"Anthony Goldstein," the other boy offers. I recognize the name vaguely. I think I've seen it on some product or something - he must come from a successful business family. You can see it in the way he carries himself, the way he speaks. Rich toad.

I am about to nudge Harry when he finally speaks. His voice is flat and toneless, like it normally is. "I'm Harry Potter."

Anthony is certainly a muggleborn. He does peer more closely at Harry, but doesn't seem too impressed. Fay on the other hand, gasps, and her eyes widen. She must be a pureblood, growing up on tales of the black haired, green eyed boy that had such a fun, interesting life... I hold back a bitter laugh. They know nothing of what Harry has been through. _I_ know nothing of what Harry has been through, and I'm the one he confides the most in.

The boats come to a halt, and first years pile out. Harry jumps out gracefully and offers me his hand. I accept, and he helps me onto solid land.

We join the crowd of eleven year olds walking towards the castle, up a wide, paved path.

Hagrid climbs the steps up to the massive front doors and raises a meaty hand.

**Thud.**

He knocks once. He only needs to knock once. The doors swing open almost soundlessly, and standing in the doorway is a woman.  
Her hair is done up in a tight bun, and she wears a severe expression. Intelligent eyes peer over square-shaped glasses at us. This woman is definitely a Professor.

"The firs' 'ears," Hagrid announces rather unnecessarily.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here. Please, follow me, and do wipe your feet on the carpet."

She pulls the door wide. The entrance hall is big. Real big. The stone walls are lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling is too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them leads to the upper floors.

A mat is laid out across the entrance doors. It magically absorbs the water from my shoes as I walk past it. We follow her across a flagged stone floor to a small chamber off a large pair of double doors. Behind them, I can hear the babble of a crowd talking. That must be the Great Hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," says Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.  
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her speech done, she leaves us.

The most common question on everybody's lips was, how were we going to be sorted?

"My brother told me we have to wrestle a troll," I hear someone say from the back.

Okay, that is not going to happen. I roll my eyes at Harry, and the corner of his mouth lifts up ever so slightly.

Translation - he feels highly amused by that statement. Amused and skeptical. I ought to get a diploma in 'Reading Harry Potter'. Nobody else can get him the way I do. Not even Selina. How do I do it? I don't know. I just do.

All of a sudden, students scream from the back. I whirl around, heart thudding loudly, and see... What are those things? They float through the wall, pale, without substance.

Ghosts. They pass on through the walls, barely sparing us a glance.

Harry had instantly sunk into a crouch, his hands resting on the handles of his knives. He straightens up real quick when he sees there's no threat, but I can make out that he is shaken. I squeeze his hand reassuringly, and his green eye flashes me a smile. The other eye remains devoid of all expression, and I feel a stab of pity. A feeling I quickly repress. Harry doesn't want my pity, nor does he need it.

Around us students hurriedly check themselves, smoothing down hair, straightening ties.

I glance over at Harry. He is short for his age, and thin. But there is a wiry strength in that body, borne out of hours of labor and practice. Mom fears his growth may be irreparably stunted. I just think he's a late bloomer. His black hair has its trademark messy look. It suits him. I can see the bottom of his famous scar, almost completely covered by his hair.  
Harry's eyes dart around in constant motion. I don't think he even realizes he is doing it. While his grey eye gives nothing away, his green orb speaks volume. His eye looks... Old. It shouldn't belong on the childish, eleven year old face, but strangely, it does.  
It's the way he carries himself. Harry carries himself confidently - a straight back, chin up. His movements are easy and graceful. It reminds me of a predator. That's what he is. Bane has trained him well, and more importantly, Harry had - and still has - the drive to become the best. He has a will than can move mountains.

I know he is wearing four layers. An undershirt, a thick dress shirt, and a thin jumper. Then his Hogwarts robes. Black pants and Italian shoes complete his ensemble.  
Harry always dresses warmly, even in the summer. He hates cold, he loathes feeling cold. Something that stems from being locked in a bare cupboard, with only a ragged sheet to cover himself with. Or so he tells me. For all I know, they could have thrown him into the backyard during winter.

He only speaks to me about the abuse he suffered. It is good for him, to be able to talk about it. Mom is glad he confides in me. It is startling, just how low humans can sink, the acts they can commit.

The door opens, and Professor McGonagall enters. "Please get into a line and follow me."

We do as she says. The boy who lost his toad is ahead of me. Harry, who was in front of me, slips out and stands behind me. I sigh. There is absolutely no threat here, yet he acts like a bodyguard. Taking up position behind his principal. Bah.  
Harry can be fiercely protective of me and Selina. I understand, we are the first people who showed him true kindness. He has attached himself to us, and will do pretty much anything for us. I have to be careful about what I say, he may just interpret it as something I really, really want, and find a way to get it done.  
Selina spoke to a mind doctor. He told us because of this attachment, this could happen. And it has. Harry once disappeared for half a day, and came back with this bracelet Selina had lost. It wasn't worth spending so much time or energy over.  
The doctor also told us the neglect and abuse Harry suffered was probably worse than we thought. I mean, really bad. Loads of children face abuse, but few as bad as Harry Potter.  
The Doc wasn't too sure if Harry will ever get over this extreme attachment to us. For him, we're safe, we're constants.

The Great Hall is really big.

The ceiling immediately catches the eye. It is very high, and seems to reflect the sky. I hear a girl ahead of me saying that the ceiling is betwitched to show the sky outside. Apparently she learnt that from Hogwarts : A History... I think I might have heard of that book, I'm not sure.

Hundreds of candles float in the air, bathing the hall in a soft, yellow glow.

Four long tables - one for each house lie along the length of the hall. Students are seated on benches, each at their own house. Golden plates and cutlery are laid out - opulent, lavish. It almost makes me feel out of place.  
At the far end of the room lies four giant tubes. Signs above them read Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. The Slytherin tube has a few emerald stones in it. The rest are empty.

Ahead of the tubes, in the space before the house tables lies the staff table. It is on a raised dais, and covered with extravagant cloth. Teachers sit in high-backed chairs along it. In the center of the table, sits an old man. He has long white hair, an equally long silvery beard. Blue eyes peer over half-moon spectacles. He sits in a... Throne, is an apt word. A magnificent throne.

Albus Dumbledore. Anger courses through my veins. He is the cause of Harry's suffering.

Even from where I stand, I can see that he is searching the line of first-years, and I know he is looking for Harry. The blue eyes come to rest on me, no - just behind me.  
I turn slightly and see Harry meeting the headmaster's gaze. There is no hate in Harry's green eye. No hate, no excitement, no nothing. His face is a blank mask. My hand darts out and squeezes his. He doesn't squeeze back.

Professor McGonagall places a four legged stool in front of the teachers table, and then puts a ratty, old hat upon it.

For a moment, silence descends on the hall, then the hat speaks.  
Yes. You read that correctly. The hat speaks.  
A slit along it's brim opens up, and it comes to life. It bends this way and that in time to its own song.

Its not a bad song, even if the hat doesn't have a very good voice.

The talking apparel finishes to rousing applause.

So much for wrestling a troll. All we have to do is put on the hat. But behind me, I feel Harry tense.

Professor McGonagall steps forward with a long roll of parchment."When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbles out of line, puts on the hat, which falls right down over her eyes, and sits down. A moments pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

"Bones, Susan!"

A redhead darts excitedly forwards. She sits on the stool, and Professor McGonagall places the hat on her head.

It takes all of three seconds for the hat to speak out.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table cheers and whoops as Susan hands the hat back to Professor McGonagall. She goes over to the Hufflepuff table, and the students make place for her.

My heart starts to beat quicker as the list moves on towards 'K'.

"Kyle, Sally."

"Sally," murmurs Harry urgently.

I stop.

"Occulmency," Harry whispers. "My knives will be ready if your mind is compromised." Sheesh, really. The words he uses sometimes...

My thoughts are racing as I slowly walk forward. Occulmency. The art of protecting one's mind against Leglimency. Andromeda taught us a little bit, enough to detect when somebody is using it on us, but not enough to keep a good Leglimens out.  
There are only a handful of Leglimens around. We wouldn't even have to study it. But Andromeda says Dumbeldore knows Leglimency, so we practiced the mind defense.

I reach the stool, and sit down. Professor McGonagall places the hat upon my head. It is so big, that it is pulled down over my eyes.

My mental tripwire goes off. Something is trying to access my mind.  
My first instinct is to yank off the hat and jump out. And Harry would unleash his fury.

'STOP!' A voice calls out mentally, and I am shocked into obedience.

'I am sworn never to divulge anything that I find in your mind,' the hat says in my mind.

'Promises can be broken.' I retort.

'Even if you were a Dark Lord in the making, I couldn't expose you,' the hat replies, and he/it seems exasperated. 'Do you think I did not see the darkness in Voldemort? Besides, I don't see any of your memories, just attributes and emotions. Ya cool?'

'I guess...' I reply uncertainly. 'And why are you speaking like that?'

'You don't have a choice. And isn't that the style this decade?'

I don't like this hat.

"Oh, you don't have to convince me,' I tell it. 'Make sure you warn Harry Potter though.'

Seconds pass, and the hat comes to a decision.

'You are brave,' it tells me. 'And loyal. Very loyal. Caring. Considerate. A hard worker And yet... Yet there is a hardness in you...'

'Comes from living on the streets when you're six,' I respond dryly.

'Perhaps Slytherin? Or even better...'

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

I lift the ancient rag off my head and hand it over to Professor McGonagall. My face is blank. I should be excited about my new house, and deep down, I am excited and nervous about it.  
But Harry comes first. Harry always comes first.  
I am worried about how he will react to the hat.  
His mind is his own. He will tolerate no intrusion there.

I rise to my feet, and look over to where Harry stands. Our eyes meet.

_*It's no threat. Keep calm.*_ I mouth to him. I know he will be able to read my lips, and can only hope he will keep his cool.

My house has stopped cheering. There is a moment of awkward silence, everyone is waiting for me to move. I do so, sending Harry a reassuring look.

Tonks waves me over, and the students shift aside to make place for me. I drop in besides the blonde - Hannah, Tonks on my other side.

Harry glances over at me as Neville Longbottom goes to Gryffindor. I mouth '_Calm_' at him again, and he blinked in reply. Then he looks away, and his chin comes up. He looks confident. Assured.

I know he's not.

Finally... "Potter, Harry."

Whispers break out across the hall, and almost everybody twists, turns, and cranes their neck to get a good look at Harry. They stare at him like he's an animal in the zoo.

"_The_ Harry Potter..."

"Is that really him?"

"He's so cute." I roll my eyes at that.

"What's up with his eyes?"

"That's creepy..."

Fools. They know nothing.

I know he is feeling uncomfortable, he doesn't like all the staring. It shows in the way he raises his chin just that little more in defiance, and the bitter spark of emotion that flashes in his green eye.  
Seriously, I should get some sort of certificate in reading Harry... Like, Doctorate Of Potter Studies.

Harry can react when provoked... Violently. I tense up as sits down gracefully, his movements smooth and easy.

The Professor places the hat on his head, and like with me, the hat falls down over his eyes.

My hand drops down to the throwing knife hidden in my robes, and fingers curl over the leather handle. I don't know how to use it very well. I'm a decent thrower, nothing special. Harry seemed troubled when he learnt I walked around unarmed, so I got myself a knife.

Harry's hands have disappeared as well, and I am sure he is grasping his own green knives. I hope he doesn't get violent.

Harry is, in a word, deadly. From where he sits, he could nail Albus Dumbledore with his knife before the old man knows what has happened, use his other knife to slice the Sorting Hat in two, and settle into a defensive crouch.  
He would be moving and halfway down the hall before the headmaster hits the floor.

Of course, he couldn't win or get away. Not with all these students around. The rest of the teachers would try and hex him, and probably the older students. And Harry would be trying not to let some kid get hurt.

Harry believes he is a monster.  
Monsters don't try and protect the innocent.  
Harry Potter is not a monster. But he is close, very close.

My breath catches, my heartbeat reaches a crescendo... I tense up, ready to spring to my feet...

My eyes are trained on Harry's hands. I see his shoulders tense slightly, one of his hands jerk, and I catch a glimpse of Jade...

Harry goes completely still. Then ever so slowly, his hands come out, and finally rest in his lap. I let out my breath.

His sorting takes even longer than mine. For almost two minutes, everybody waits. Only once did Harry move - his fingers curl into fists for about a second. The teachers look at one another, the headmaster seems rather pleased.

Pleased, until the hat shouts out...

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry swiftly removes the hat and brings it to eye level. For a long moment, he stares at it. Any normal human would have cringed at that look. But the hat is a hat. It doesn't cringe.

Silence. Everybody is shocked that the boy wonder, the boy-who-lived, the saviour, Harry James Potter, is in Slytherin.

Now the headmaster doesn't look too pleased.

Professor McGonagall is so shocked, she doesn't reach out for the hat. Harry rises and places the hat on the stool.

Unperturbed he stalks over to the Slytherin table. His face is set in his stone. Now that it is over, he is just going to deal with it the best he can.

Harry glances over at me, and the stares of the hall follow his gaze. I smile and nod reassuringly.

Clapping breaks out, too little, too late, and the green-clad students end it as pathetically as it began.

The sorting finally continues. The last student to get sorted is Blaise Zabini, who goes to "SLYTHERIN!"

Dumbledore stands and holds his arms out wide.

"Welcome," he says. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sits back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Except me, Harry and Tonks. The dishes are now piled high with all kinds of food. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

"Can I get a cheeseburger?" I ask Tonks, and she snickers.

The Hufflepuff ghost makes his way over to where we sit - most of us first years are sitting in the same area.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he announces in a tremulous tone. "I am the Hufflepuff ghost, and my name is the Fat Friar. All the houses have their own ghosts, look, that's the. Bloody Baron."

Our ghost points a finger in the direction of a... Bloody ghost. He looks mean, and hovers around the Slytherin table. Harry seems fine, he's talking with some brunette besides him, a charming smile fixed on his face. Fake, but he's trying.

"And that's the Gray Lady -"

A stately ghost, elegant and haughty floats around the Ravenclaw table.

"And that's Nearly Headless Nick."

I get an explanation for the ghost's odd name when said undead reaches up and pulls at his ear. His head swings off and dangles. Cool. Gross, but cool.

A while later, when everybody has eaten their fill, the food disappears, and dessert is served.  
Again, there are at least ten different things...

"You know I thought about what we normally eat here, and I got you something..." Tonks fishes around and pulls out a Toblerone.

I greedily grab it and tear the wrapping open, popping the three triangles of joy in my mouth.

"Thanks." I say.

"You're very welcome," Tonks replies.

At last, the desserts too disappear, and Professor Dumbledore gets to his feet again. The hall falls silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"No magic in a school of magic?" I ask Tonks skeptically.

She rolls her eyes. "Nobody follows that rule."

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cries Dumbledore.

Gandalf Junior gives his wand a little flick, as if he is trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flows out of it, which rises high above the tables and twists itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," says Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Two identical twins finish last, and Dumbledore beams merrily before dismissing us.

A glance across the hall tells me Harry hadn't joined in the song. He looks... Amused.

Tonks stands and snaps her fingers. "Alright first years, follow me and Stacey here. I'm a sixth year prefect, and Stacey here is head girl."

I feel all warm and sleepy, stuffed with food and really tired. Looking around, I can tell almost everybody feels the same.

Except Harry. As always, he is alert, mismatched eyes miss nothing, muscles are ready to explode into action at an instant's notice.

I wave and mouth 'sunrise'. A fleeting, but genuine smile lights up his face. He shakes his head and mimes sleeping.  
I know he isn't going to be sleeping, it's for my benefit.

Well, okay. I shrug and wave goodbye. Harry blinks in return.

I turn away to follow Tonks, and see Susan looking at me oddly.

"What?" I ask her.

Her eyes flit over to Harry, then back to me. "Nothing, nothing..."

"Oookay..." I turn to Tonks. "So, I didn't hear you, what's your full name again?"

* * *

We follow Tonks and Stacey down the large marble staircase.

"Normally, the stairs keep moving," Tonks explains. "But for the first night, it stays stationary."

Sounds crazy. "Has anybody ever fallen off?" I ask, peering up the staircase. They seem to go up forever. I imagine my guts scattered all over the marble down here, and quickly look away. Morbid imagination.

"Not really," Tonks replies. "It never happens, strange, it must be..." She grins wickedly, and I know she's going to make some really crap joke...

"Magic," she finishes, with an exaggerated wink, hair shifting to deep purple for a moment.

I roll my eyes, and to my delight, so does another first year - Susan's friend. Our eyes lock, and we both burst into a fit of giggles.

"Sally Kyle," I offer.

The girl shakes my hand. "Hannah Abbott."

The path to the common room isn't very complicated. A few passageways, duck into a near invisible corridor, past a tapestry, and come face to face with... A pile of barrels.

"The other houses might look down on us," Tonks says pompously. "But nobody, nobody has a common room like ours. Ours is the most comfortable. Welcome to the Hufflepuff Basement."

She taps out a rhythm on one of the barrels in the middle, and the lid opens up. Really wide. That shouldn't be physically possible.

"You might have to bend a bit when you grow taller," Stacey warns us.

Into the opening, down a short passage into the Hufflepuff common room.

The Hufflepuff Basement is round, has a low ceiling and is... Earthy. The colours are earth tones, the settings completely wooden. Yellow hangings, copper burnishings, stuffed armchairs make the room warm and welcoming. Pots line the windowsills, and are even suspended from the ceiling - housing all sorts of plants... It gives the room a very natural look. And cozy. Very cozy.

A honey coloured mantelpiece with badgers carved into it lies below a portrait -which is empty at the moment.

Two small fireplaces blaze and crackle merrily at opposite ends of the room. At the opposite corner to the entrance lie two round doors.

The entire set up reminds me of the hobbit village in the Lord of the Rings.

"The door on the left goes to the girl's dormitory, the one on the right is for the boys," Tonks tells us, pointing at the doors opposite us.

Through the round door on the left, down a few steps, into a long tunnel, brightly lit up with yellow and red lanterns. Round doors are set into the sides and marked with numbers.

"Here you are," says Stacey, pushing open the door marked with the number one.

The dorm is similar to the common room - round. A door at the far side leads to the bathrooms.

Four posters decorate the room. Curtains can be drawn to provide privacy.

The carpet is a plain red with yellow lining. The beds are decked out in yellow and black patchwork quilts.

Our trunks stand besides our beds. Mine is dead center. Harry would freak out. A security nightmare.

Stacey speaks up. "Okay guys, settle yourselves. You gotta get yourselves to the common room at half past seven for a meeting with your head of house. All meals are served in the Great Hall. Breakfast is from seven to nine thirty."

The head girl waves goodbye and goes on upstairs.

I make to go inside my dorm, but Tonks grabs my shoulders. "Sunrise is at 3 in the morning. You going to get up?"

I sigh and shake my head. "I wouldn't even know where to look for Harry."

Tonks nods in agreement. "Okay. Well, goodnight Sally."

"Goodnight Tonks."

I enter the combination on my trunk, and press my finger against a piece of polished metal on the top.

There's a metallic click, and my trunk pops open.

Magic can be really cool. So much stuff shouldn't fit in this trunk. And it has compartments! Everything is so... Neat. I know where to look for whatever I want. I grab facewash, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a ratty old tee shirt and pajama bottoms.

The washroom is nice. The fittings are made of marble. Two toilets, three sinks. Two showers. No bath.  
Not a problem. I always shower anyway. Luxuriously.

Changed and ready to sleep, I lay down on my bed and stretch out.

"Sally?"

I push myself up with a groan. The bed is so soft... Susan and Hannah are standing at the foot of my bed.

"These beds are awesome," I tell them. "Sit down."

They perch themselves on my bed.

"Well Sally," Susan says. "We were wondering how you know Harry Potter."

I blink. That was unexpected.

"Well, I met him a while back, and well...," I say, trying to wave away the question.

"We don't mean to pry," Hannah hurriedly interjects, possibly sensing my reluctance. "It's just that no one has seen Harry Potter before, there's been no news of him at all, and he's a really big thing-"

"He's a bit private," I say, perhaps too sharply.

"So how did you even meet?" Asks Susan.

I couldn't very well tell the truth. Why didn't I think about this?  
I mean, I couldn't very well tell them we met at a mercenary's place, and Harry almost killed me.

Selina was pretty much the best at stealing stuff. Bane paid her for her services... Not too well, but he did. And he offered some protection...

He used Selina often to get his plan for Gotham going. Most prominently, when she got Bruce Wayne's fingerprints.

Selina would come home and tell me of a boy with a green eye. Silent, always silent. Creepy. She feared the boy. Bane's men feared the boy. He had risen among Bane's ranks, and now only took orders from a few.

Part of their bargain was that Bane keep me someplace safe, away from Gotham, so I wouldn't be caught up in the madness of his revolution.

I was brought to Florida. I was given quarters, brought food and water, allowed to roam around specific sections of the grounds.

And that's when I came upon Harry. Bane had just left, the boy was conflicted, confused...

He looked stoic, and... So lonely.

I caught him at a rare unguarded moment, he was deep in thought and didn't hear my approach. From behind, I tried to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

Harry moved so fast, he was almost a blur. My arm was caught in a vise like grip, he rose to his feet, flipping me over, using his shoulder as leverage. I landed hard, his knee driven into my midriff rather painfully. A flash of green, and a beautiful knife sunk through my jumper, past my shirt, and just broke skin. Right above my heart.

I stared at the jade handle, exquisite, yet plain.

Bane's men had all sorts of names for him. Harry Death. Bane's Bane. Jade Prince.

So now I knew why he was called Jade Prince. His knives were of sparkling Jade, green like his eyes.

Much later, I started calling him Jade Knight.

"Uhh... Look. I can't tell you right now. Let me talk to Harry and see what he says, okay? I don't want him mad at me."

That's right. I put it on him.

They nod uncertainly, eye me oddly, then conversation switches to the sorting. All of us agree our common room is amazing. And that a Weasley going to Gryffindor wasn't surprising, nor a Malfoy going to Slytherin.

There is quite a bit of gossip about Harry. I tune it out, electing to say goodnight as soon as I hear his name mentioned.

I draw my curtains, shut my eyes, and let my head fall onto the wondrous, fluffy pillow. The bed beneath me is perfect, and I give a sigh of content.

I could get used to this.

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**(0)**

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**Next chapter, Harry.**

**Thank you for reading, and do leave me some feedback. **

**Cheers,  
Timefreak**


	3. Chapter Three - Harry

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Harry Potter or Batman universe. There is no money to be made from this fic.**

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_**Emerald Eye Knight**_

_**Part One**_

**Chapter Three - Harry**

The meal is elegant. Opulent. I am unused to this. We eat good food, but never have I faced such a spread. It might seem really nice, but I feel it is a waste, too much... Extravagant, is the word I am looking for.

I pay no attention to the taste though, mechanically choosing the healthiest food, making sure my meal is balanced.

The hat has completely ruined my day. Damn talking apparel. It should be burnt, and it's ashes scattered.

_'There is a great darkness within you...'_

_'Such pain, such suffering...'_

_'You are truly old, young one...'_

_'You surprise me Harry Potter...'_

I savagely, yet accurately stab my fork into a piece of tender meat. It knows nothing. It thinks to judge me, to warn me against my own darkness...

I embrace my darkness. It makes me stronger.

The Sorting Hat warned me before setting off my mental trip wire. I warned it not to do so again, or I would respond with force. The only reason I hadn't done yet was Sally, and the fact that the hall was full of children.

Surely I have some choice in where I want to go? I thought that I didn't care, but when I saw how divided how the houses seemed to be... The moment Sally sat on the stool, and the accursed hat called out Hufflepuff, I knew that was where I wanted to go. I knew I wanted to follow her there. I didn't want to be separate from her. It almost scared me. Sally is the only true constant over here, the only person I can rely on.

The hat outright refused. First it said I was hard to sort, that I had the traits of all the houses in abundance. Courage, a thirst for knowledge, the drive to improve myself, cunning, ambition, willingness to work hard, loyalty... Although that last one, perhaps not so much. I am loyal to Sally, to Selina. And to my principles. That is all I am loyal to. I cannot even say I am loyal to myself.

The reaction didn't faze me. The hushed silence, then the whispered conversatoins, the stares... Okay, maybe the stares got to me a bit. I hate that it made me feel uncomfortable. It shouldn't matter.

The teachers were shocked as well. Dumbledore didn't look very happy. Professor McGonagall forgot to take back the hat. A short teacher had fallen off his high chair... erm, seat. The teacher with the turban seemed intrigued. And the sallow faced teacher with the hooked nose seemed... Constipated.

Dessert is served. Again, extravagant. Life at the Dursleys taught me to respect food and drink. To treasure it, to not waste it. I do not like extravagance.

Dumbledore gets to his feet and speaks.

The Forbidden Forest is forbidden. I will explore it once I have settled here.

The Third Floor Corridor is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a painful death... Is this a school?  
I will investigate the corridor sometime. There are few things that can kill me. I am not afraid. I haven't been in a long time.

The brunette next to me strikes up conversation. Her name is Tracey Davis. She manages to hold in her questions, and keep the talk simple, mostly about the meal and the train, and gains some respect for that.

I glance over at Sally. She seems at ease, talking, laughing... She and Tonks get along really well, despite the age gap... I suppose that doesn't really matter. Sally - like me - is mature for her age, and Tonks can be a bit of a kid at times.

The senior students leave, and just as the first years too are going to follow, she asks me if I want to meet for sunrise. I shake my head. It is nice of her, but we wouldn't be able to meet. And she looks really tired. Best if she gets some sleep.

The Slytherin Common room is down in the dungeons. We follow the two Slytherin Prefects down the marble staircase, and into stone corridors, lit with dim green light - the spooky type.

We walk past an abnormally large suit of armor, and a green tapestry depicting a knight in green armor charging an army. Fitting. Green Knight. Jade Knight.

Just a few paces ahead, lies a stretch of blank wall.

But if you observe very carefully, which I do, you can just about make out twisting reptiles. A pattern of snakes. Tiny stone bricks trace out a pattern of snakes coiling around each other, subtly. It is a wonderful piece of art.

"Snake Lair," one of the prefects leading us says.

The stone retracts, giving way to the common room, and we step inside.

The room is shaped like a semi circle. A silver carpet stretches out to cover stone floor. Green-fire torches hang in black brackets on the stone walls.

But that is not the only lighting. The ceiling seems to glow yellow, and lights up the entire room. Oddly, it fits in well with the green light, and the overall effect is aesthetically pleasing.

Two large marble snakes are intertwined to create a chain, form which hangs a massive chandelier. It is magnificently sculptured.

The walls are stone, yes, but not boring. The stone slabs are large and polished, and glow dully with a sort of luminescence. Murals, tapestries, racks of old weapons are placed all over the walls.

The common room is made up of steps. As in, there are four platforms,each about ten centimeters above each other.

One large fireplace faces the entrance, on the final platform. Dying embers glow faintly.

Desks, chairs, sofas and armchairs litter the room.

The walk to the common room was a bit on the cold side. I am glad the common room isn't cold. It's at a decent temperature. Not warm, nor cold. Average.

The Prefects welcome us to the Slytherin common room. They tell us that all the art we see displayed was done by Salazar Slytherin himself.  
Two large tapestries, each a myriad of colour, like someone threw a bunch of paint bottles at a sheet. And yet, it is artistic. The one on the left leads the boys common room, the one on the right to the girls.

We are given some more instructions - our head of house will address us tomorrow morning.

The tapestry is an illusion. We just walk through, and then downstairs. A long corridor stretches out before us. Doors are set into both sides of the passage, each has a huge number on it, in the form of... Snakes. Of course.

The six of us go through the door marked with 'One'. Six of us - myself, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini.

The dorm is massive. Really, really large. A soft glow-in-the-dark green carpet covers the floow. Silver blankets, green pillows adorn all the four posters, spread out evenly in the circular room. Heavy curtains are placed around each bed - the type you find in auditorium's.

A plain door on the right leads to the washroom.

Our trunks lie besides our beds. Mine is the second from left. In order, from the left - Crabbe, me, Goyle, Malfoy, Nott, Zabini.

I want the one on the side. Crabbe has it. So I approach Crabbe.

"I would like to switch beds," I say, with a bit of Jade in my voice.

"Why?"

"It would be mutually beneficial," I reply, but doubt he understands that. "I get to sleep where I want, and you get to be closer to your friends."

Everyone has stopped to listen to our conversation. Malfoy steps in.

"Why do you want the corner bed?" The blond wants to know. Demands to know.

Demanding of Harry Potter never gets you anywhere, unless your name is Selina or Sally. I am not boasting, merely stating facts.

"That is for me to know, and you not to worry about," I reply, and my voice is cold and hard. A mistake. I am too wound up from the long day, and my wonderful talk with the accursed hat.

Draco doesn't seem to like my reply.

"Yes or no?" I ask quietly.

Draco hesitates for all of three seconds. "Alright. But you owe me."

I watch as Crabbe drags his trunk over to his new bed, and then meet Malfoy's eyes.

"No."

My grey eye unnerves him, as it does most people. He means to say it threateningly, but it comes out like a question.

"N-no?"

"No," I repeat, and my voice is flat again.

Draco eyes me long and hard, then sneers and turns away.

I get my trunk over to my bed, close the curtains and kneel down. My eyes narrow. I had left the dials at 7-7-6-7. It is now at 8-7-7-7. Nothing I can do about it. So much for calling me paranoid - my suspicion is justified.

I enter the correct four number combination - 3110 - and place a finger on a metallic plate.

A click, a hiss, and my trunk opens.

First things first. I withdraw five elliptical stones - grey, marked with green runes.

Four I place just within my curtains, one near each bedpost. The fifth goes under my bed. I press down hard on the top of the fifth stone, and a thin, electric blue line stretches out, connecting the other four stones in a square shape.

Security, check.

I change into my night-wear. Light, foamy, cotton track pants, and a thick, half-sleeved tee shirt.

From my trunk, I take out a black box, and press down on a hidden button. The box opens to reveal velvet padding inside, and grooves, buckles, straps. Throwing knives, a couple of smoke bombs, a powerful torch and a few other tools lie inside. This is my weapons case.

I unfasten the holster holding my Holly and Phoenix Wand and drop it into it's place.

I unfasten the other holster and secure it too. The polished green handle of my true-wand glows slightly.

My knives lie in my Hogwarts robes. I draw them.

Beautiful. Deadly. Sixteen inches of jade, steel, silver, and a few other elements and compounds. A special material. The cost to make it is astronomical. Bane and Selina filched it from a top-secret research lab. There only a few kilograms of this material in the world as of now, and I have it all. Bane's gift to me. I just call the material Jade. Capital J.

It is one of the hardest, most durable materials in existence.

The handle sparkles in sunlight. It is a slim handle, with microscopic grooves to provide a firm grip. The end of the handle - the pommel - is round, a solid chunk of Jade. It can be used to knock people unconscious.

There is no guard to mark where the handle ends and the blade begins. You can see it though, the rounded handle gives way to as slightly curved blade. The blade itself is sharp like no ordinary weapon. The tip, so fine it cannot be seen, can force its way though diamond if the right amount of pressure is applied.

It is well balanced, almost indestructible. It can be thrown, it can be used to block, to stab... Perfect.

I am researching the magical field of enchanting. There was this one piece of simple runic magic - I could brand my palm with a specific rune, and paint the same on my knives with my blood. As a result, the blade could be summoned to my hand.

Sally and Selina both asked me not to do so. So I didn't.

I don't fully understand. The only catch was that my palm would be scarred. And the branding would be a bit painful - but I am no stranger to pain. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. It's no big deal.

I slide one knife into a stiff leather sheath, inlaid with silver threads. A combination of magic and mechanics ensures that the blade never touches the side. The reason- jostling might lead to the sheath tearing apart if the sharp edge is allowed to touch the leather with enough force.

The second knife too goes in a sheath, but is slid under my pillow. I known I don't need it. I could kill every person in this room, unarmed, and with one hand tied behind my back. Besides, who would attack me? And that's assuming someone gets past my expensive protection wards.

Nevertheless, I don't feel right without at least one knife ready at hand. I can't help it. I simply have to have some sort of weapon with me.

And I do have _some_ reason. Dumbledore wants me for something, I do not know what. I do not trust him to not try something while I'm here at Hogwarts.

The bed is really nice. Soft, but not too soft. Lavish, like most things I see at Hogwarts.

I draw the blanket snugly around me. It is very comfortable.

Inhale.

Exhale.

* * *

The screams are loud and pleading, panicked.

And yet, there is a defiance.

Defiant to the last breath, Lily Potter stands her ground. I hear her cries, then the sound of a body crashing to the floor, lifeless, dead...

A high cold laughter.

And then a flash of green, a blinding light, the killing curse...

* * *

My eyes fly open,.

This dream incites no reaction from me anymore. I just wish there was more, that I could see something, hear proper words, my mother's voice...

Inhale.

Exhale.

Soundlessly, I slide out of bed. I need no time to properly wake up. I am already alert, the second I wake up, a skill I learnt by the time I was three.

In a way, I suppose the Dursley's could be thanked. They made me what I am.

Forged from inhumanity, I am stronger than human, more than human.

I am a knight. No, Knight. Jade Knight.

I glance at my wristwatch. It is a gift from Bruce Wayne. It is completely mechanical, and needs to be wound up once every four days. The dials are made of red wood, the strap is black with red stitching, made of the finest leather money can buy. The body of the watch is made up of a combination of an artificial fabric, rubber, and silver. You can't buy this sort of watch, it has to be custom-made.

Bruce Wayne knows nothing about me. He thinks I'm like Sally, another orphan Selina has taken under her wing.

Normally, he might try an find out more about me. But he has a blind spot where Selina is concerned.

And, after Bane's death, he has drastically reduced his appearances as Batman.

Selina tells me he has become more human. That he is really living now. I do not understand that.

I grab my knives, put on my holly and phoenix wand. A grappling gun-apparatus goes to my pocket. This is one neat gadget, courtesy of Bruce Wayne. Although he thinks Selina has it.

Sunrise is about half an hour away. I dress quickly, and leave the dorm.

The common room is empty. I quickly figure out how to exit the room. You stand on a circular stone just ahead of the entrance, and it opens up.

Curfew is still ongoing, but I am not worried about getting caught. The passageways are absolutely deserted. All the portraits seem to be sleeping as well. I was worried about magical portraits being able to spy on me, but some research showed me there was no cause for concern. Only a few can, and most of them are in the Headmaster's room.

There are no students rushing around. Everything is quiet. If somebody is approaching, I will hear them. Nevertheless, I put on my invisibility cloak and make my way upstairs.

The path we took to get to the common room the last night might seem complicated to most men. I am not most men. I trace the exact same path to the Great Hall.

Hogwarts isn't lit up too well. The corridors are quite dark, only a few torches here and there provide any illumination.

The entrance hall is properly lit up though. Up ahead, the marble staircase glows faintly, and a few candles float about randomly up and down the now-moving stairs.

The doors to the Great Hall open soundlessly, and I slip inside.

There isn't much light in the Great Hall, only a few dim torches set in the walls.

I shoot the grappling gun and watch as it accurately lands in the rafters high up at the ceiling. That is where I presume owls come in from.  
There must be some magic involved, so as to keep the rain and snow out.

A few exhilarating seconds later, I grasp the rafters, and pull myself through. There is enough space - the it looks deceptively small from the floor.

The fall on the other side is quite steep. But for me, it isn't very hard to get down. I'm sure Selina could do so as well, perhaps Sally too. There are plenty of handholds and footholds that provide enough purchase. The stone bricks aren't very large - about half my height, and provide ledges for me to rest my feet on, and hold with my hands. Cracks and crevices provide adequate handholds as well.

Soon hopefully, I will be able to jump right down. Using enchanted boots. And Selina will get me a bit of Batman's memory cloth.

It is extremely dark. The night is always darkest just before dawn.

I walk for a bit, and settle down, cross legged, on a bare patch of ground. It is surprisingly dry, but I am not complaining.

The front of Hogwarts faces the Lake. That's West. So I am unable to see the sun as it rises.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The show of colours is good enough. As the sky lightens, I look towards the blood-red bit of sky peeking around the massive walls behind me.

I place all that is hard to endure, all my pain and suffering, the abuse, neglect - Sally tells me I have lov_ed_-deficiency. I would not know.

And then, I remember sparring with Bane.  
Playing a card game with Bane's men. Some of them were really good chaps, even if a bit fanatic. That was the first time I had had fun.  
Fishing with Sally and Selina - sitting in a small wooden boat, at a green lagoon.

Hugging Selina. That strange feeling I get when Selina completely wraps her arms around me, pulling me into her. It took me a while to figure it out. It felt... Safe.  
I suppose that's how children feel when their mothers comfort them. I wouldn't know.

And I find peace. My heart soars, and I feel unburdened, powerful, free...

It is a ritual for me, one I enjoy, and take relief in.

Dawn breaks, morning arrives, the sun chases away the darkness, it's rays light up the world.

It is a reminder. The night is darkest before dawn, but then the sun rises, and the light returns.

But it doesn't last forever.

Nothing lasts forever.

The sun eventually sets, and night falls. Light turns to Darkness, then Darkness to light.  
Even in the night though, there are stars and the moon to provide relief, to give aid and light, a silver light, a silver lining, shining.

I told Sally all this once. She whistled, stared into my eyes, whistled again.  
Then proceeded to join me whenever she could.

I rise to my feet and walk with, slow, small, measured steps back to the front door.

I could have walked out through them. But that could have set off some alarm. And I wanted to check out the rafters anyway.

I go back the same way I came in.

I spy a teacher on the way back. It's the teacher with the hooked nose and sallow skin. Professor Snape. The Slytherin Head of House.

He looks troubled, and seems to be pacing.

I hope it does not distract him from his job. I look forward to learning Potions. It seems to be a very useful subject.

I easily slip by him, and make my way to the dorm.

There are a few hours till I have to be in the common room.  
I don't go to sleep again. Instead, I make sure my curtains are closed, and remove my jumper,now dressed only in a long sleeved tee.

I stand besides my bed, eyes closed.

Inhale.

Exhale.

One eye flies open. MY grey eye is lifeless, like it always is. And yet, alert.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The other eyelid comes up to reveal a Jade eye. I am told my green eye is beautiful.

I swivel slowly on one heel. One hand comes up, extends outwards, fist clenched.

It comes down, as the other arm comes up, my left leg simultaneously leaving the ground, reaching out to smash an imaginary opponent in the stomach.

My movements become faster,swifter, smoother. I flow from one move to the other, limbs moving in a perfect symphony of destruction.  
It is an art, almost a dance. A dance of violence and destruction, to the song of death... There are no ordered poses or stances.

It is unpredictable chaos. Graceful. Smooth. Beautiful.

The average grown human still stands a chance against me, simply because he is stronger. I have to rely on skill and movement. When I grow up, I will be nearly unstoppable.

I begin to tire nearly twenty minutes later. A year ago, when I used to train under Bane, pushed to hell and back, I could go on for nearly an hour. Since Bane died, I haven't had anyone to teach me, help me improve my own style. Bruce Wayne could, and I am seriously considering approaching him.

Selina can only spar with me, not help me improve my own style.

Almost panting now, I carefully slow down. I learnt early on not to stop at once.  
A few cooling downs exercises - simple stretches, and I am done. I grab my large, furry bath towel. Selina bought it for me. I head for the washroom.

Soaps and shampoos are provided, but I choose to use my own anyway. I remove my shirt and stop for a moment to look in the mirror.

I do not have a bodybuilder's physique. I am slim, wiry. A few scars here and there mar my skin. My muscles are hard, but not very defined. I am still only eleven.  
Besides, I do not care about the aesthetic value of my body. Speed, strength, endurance, flexibility... That's what matters. One's body must be an efficient tool.

I'm in and out of the shower within four minutes. Like usual.  
I always shower quickly, another habit picked up at #4

Selina and Sally take really long showers. And Selina sings sometimes. Me and Sally recorded her singing/screaming once , and we teased and threatened mom with it. We laughed a lot that day. It is one of my fondest memories.

Squeaky clean and changed into my uniform, I emerge from the washroom. I deactivate the ward system, choose a book from my trunk, and head to the common room.

It is still empty. I pick a comfortable looking armchair, and sit down. It is conveniently placed, providing a view of both the entrance to the common room, and the doors to the dorms.

And then, I open my book - an adventure novel - and begin to read.

I like to read.

* * *

Most of the older students are still sleeping when Professor Snape wings his way into the room. The word winged is rather apt, considering his bat-like appearance.

Long,black, greasy hair falls down to his shoulders. His black eyes are bottomless black pits. The hooked nose stands sentry over a pair of near-bloodless thin lips. His skin is pale, sallow. If his lips were red, I could have taken him for a vampire.  
Black robes billow impressively about his feet, adding to the overall effect of a human-bat.

I recognize his face. It's a bit like Bruce Wayne's. Like Mine.

A mask.

Andromeda told me this man was a death eater. Dumbledore vouched for him, and kept him out if Azkaban. The whole affair was very hush-hush, not many even know Snape was a Death Eater.  
Which leads me to the conclusion Snape was a spy. Looking at his face confirms this suspicion.  
This man could have strung along both Voldemort and Dumbledore at the same time.

His mask is not like mine though. Emotion is displayed. The negative sorts.

Any seniors in the room clear out immediately, leaving all the first years alone with their head of house.

Professor Snape motions sharply with his hand, gesturing for us to gather on the second platform in front of him.

We do so.

"My name is Severus Snape," he says, and his voice is smooth, silky. Everyone is instantly alert. Even Draco sits up, the blond boy seemed to have trouble waking up at this early hour... Early, for him.

Professor Snape has the gift of keeping a class quiet with merely his presence.

His eyes rove over us and settle on... Me. I can see resentment in that gaze.

I know why. My father and Professor Snape were not very good friends..._ Understatement_. They hated each other.  
Professor Snape loathed my father. Perhaps he still does.  
Andromeda told me while they were both at fault, perhaps my father was a bit more responsible for the hatred.

I look like my father. Perhaps this man seeks to take out some of that anger on me?

It would be a mistake. His mistake.

"I am your Head of House." Again, he pauses. Then - "You have been sorted into Slytherin, the house of the cunning and ambitious."

He takes a few steps to the side. "I will not sugarcoat this. The other houses will possibly consider you dark wizards and witches in the making. Which is why Slytherin house will always present a united front. Slytherins stuck together in the face of other houses. I will help you when I can, where I can. The other students say it is favoritism, I see it as restoring balance."

Strange. He makes this school sound like a war zone. Instead of encouraging us to change the other house's perception of us, he almost adds fuel to the fire.

"If you have any questions, if you need help with any subject, you are to approach your fourth year seniors. Specific students will be pointed out to you for specific subjects. I expect all of you to do well in your classes."

"Slytherin house produces some of the most powerful, toughest, and most capable wizards and witches. You will learn here how tough the outside world can be. Do not come to me with petty complaints regarding your peers or seniors. For the most part, I let you resolve your own differences.  
"However, if you do need to confer with me, you may come to my door."

He almost smiles.

"Welcome to Slytherin."

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**Thank you for reading. Do leave a review.**

**Next chapter - the Professors of Hogwarts.**

**Cheers,  
Timefreak**


	4. Chapter Four - The Professors

**Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter, or the Batman series.**

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_**Emerald Eye Knight**_

_**Part One**_

**Chapter Four - The Professors **

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

I seldom open the third drawer on the right hand side of my desk. Tonight is an exception. My old, wrinkled fingers reach out and pull open the drawer.

I place the bottle of Firewhisky and a small glass on my desk. Muggles call this 'shots', I think.

I pour myself a 'shot', and tip it down my throat. The liquid burns my throat, and tiny puffs of steam escape from my ears.

Surprisingly, Minerva too reaches for the bottle, and pours herself a shot. She takes it in two gulps, and steam issues from her ears.

I always try to keep my office cheerful and interesting. All sorts of wacky instruments lie about - even I don't know what half of them are used for. The lighting is kept yellow and cheerful, the bookshelves are regularly cleaned, and well designed. The entire office feels airy, and Fawkes' chirping never fails to make my heart soar.

I however, do not feel cheerful tonight. I had been anxiously awaiting this day, the day Harry Potter would come to Hogwarts.

When I left the baby boy on the doorstep of his relatives, I did not expect him to be treated very well. I did not expect him to be loved as a son. But I did not expect for him to be abused in such a manner either. I expected a Harry Potter that clung to his newly discovered world of magic. A Harry Potter that would rely on me, accept my guidance. I expected an easy-to-please, eager to please Harry Potter, pliable, easy-to-mould.

Had I known the horrors this child would face, I would most certainly not have placed him with his relatives. It is a decision that haunts me.

I try to free myself of the guilt. I ask myself, what other options were there? He needed protection, and the blood wards were the best. He needed to fulfill the prophecy, and I needed to guide him - he had to be dependent. The Dursleys were his family, his last relatives, and they wouldn't spoil him... It seemed like the right decision.

And then, six years later, me and Minerva are discussing politics over a bottle of Butterbeer, when Arabella Figg uses the floo I installed in her home for the first time.

"He's gone!" She shouted, and my heart leapt to my mouth.

Minerva criticized my decision to have Arabella Figg keep watch over Harry. The old woman might be a bit batty, but I had honestly not thought she would not be able to spot abuse on this level. In her defense, nor did anyone else, and those who did never brought it to light. Harry's magic kept healing him, leaving little physical evidence behind. I learnt this from Petunia.

The three of us rushed to Privet Drive through the Floo. Muggle police was swarming over the house.

The story was this. Petunia and Dudley Dursley had gone out shopping. They came back to a ransacked house. Vernon Dursley was missing. Further investigation by the Muggle police revealed that a small boy used to live at #4, and that he too was missing. And then the details came out. To see that horrible, wretched cupboard was enough to know that Harry had been abused - and badly.

At the same time, there was some massive event taking place elsewhere in England, and so this story wasn't splashed all over the news. A few spells I cast helped as well. A blessing. I do not feel Harry would want everyone to know the abuse he suffered. Such children normally don't, they feel embarrassed by it. I read a few books on child abuse later, to try and find out what sort of effect it could have had on Harry. There are many disorders - mental and physical. I have to find out which ones Harry is afflicted with.

Two days later, Vernon Dursley was found, his neck broken, murdered. I feared for Harry's life.

For three years, I searched for Harry, with the help of Minerva, but did not find him.

And then, one day, Andromeda Tonks approached me. She told me she knew what had happened to Harry. She knew the mistakes I had made regarding him. She told me she knew where Harry Potter was and that he had approached her.

The following month was a period of lengthy, draining, and tough negotiations. I gave up Harry's Gringotts key. I gave up the Invisibility cloak. I did not try to find him, did not try to find out what had happened to him these past three years.  
I would not use my considerable power and influence to have him sent to a place of my choosing.

In return, Harry would attend Hogwarts, and Andromeda would not disclose my mistakes to the Wizarding world, damaging my reputation beyond all repair.

Andromeda Tonks and Amelia Bones make a formidable pair. Harry had somehow enlisted both of them to help him, I still do not know how.

I do not know what happened to him, where he was these past years.

This evening, he walked into the Great Hall confidently. His back straight, chin up. He showed no fear, no anxiety. He met my gaze, stared back into my eyes, and I detected... nothing. No curiosity, no excitement. No hatred, no anger, no resentment. His face was a blank mask, emotionless. I can only hope that he does indeed, have emotions. Damn the Dursleys.  
Those eyes... I was shocked. One eye, green like his mother's. Even if it gave nothing away, it looked human. The other was grey - dead, lifeless. It does not look human.

"Damn you Albus," Minerva says heavily, and I bow my head. She has said those words many times. "A Potter in Slytherin."

Harry Potter in Slytherin. I had not entertained that possibility, it was a shock. For one, he is a Potter. Two, he must have heard about how all dark wizards are in Slytherin? Three, I asked the sorting hat to place him in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, if possible. I cannot demand that the hat do so.

Ronald Weasley would have made an ideal companion for him. Now, I have no idea how things might turn out. He needs friends in the light families, how can that be arranged now?

When I asked the hat what it thought of Harry Potter, it replied cryptically. While it cannot divulge anything about Harry to me, it can certainly try to describe him, give me some, little insight.

"A knight," was all the hat said.

Tom Riddle was an orphan. Tom Riddle was sent to an orphanage, where he was bullied, and became a cold, callous murderer. He never experienced true love. He was sorted into Slytherin. Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort.

Harry Potter is an orphan.  
I foolishly placed him at the doorstep of his relatives. He was abused, to an extent seldom seen. He should have died, save that his magic kept him alive. This shows just how powerful a wizard Harry Potter is.  
He was not loved, probably hasn't ever known love. I can only hope that in these past three years, he found some sort of parental figure, a sibling of sorts, a friend... Anyone that accepted him and loved him.  
He too, is sorted into Slytherin.

The similarities between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle are numerous. It is a frightening thought, that Harry Potter should become a Dark Lord. This is something I will not allow to happen, even if it means taking steps I have never taken before.  
Allowing Tom Riddle to grow into Lord Voldemort... A mistake like that I will not repeat.

Prophecy, or no prophecy, the world cannot stand another Dark Lord. Harry Potter is a very powerful young wizard, possibly with as much raw magic potential as me, or Voldemort... Or even more. However, it remains to be seen if he has the skill.

I have to win over the boy, somehow. At the very least, I need someone I can trust close to him. Perhaps Minerva could approach him? Severus would be best, but his hatred for James will cloud his mind. Already, I do believe he intends to make life hard for young Harry - something that will clash for his habit of slightly favoring his own house. I wonder if I should tell Severus about Harry's childhood. No, no I cannot do that.

I glance across at the Sword of Gryffindor. Perhaps one day, Harry will wield that sword? It does not matter that he is in Slytherin, the sword of Godric Gryffindor will present itself to anyone worthy of it...  
Probably not. If he was sorted into Gryffindor, I would have held some hope, and presented the sword to him a few years later, perhaps when telling him the prophecy.

Does he have the attributes the sword requires? If he does, it means he would quite possibly be willing to die, as he must.

I do believe there is a soul fragment within that scar, a piece of Voldemort himself.

Harry Potter must die.

* * *

_Professor Filius Flitwick_

Ah, the first years. Young, keen, quick, impressionable minds. This is my first class of the year, a joint first year Slytherin and Ravenclaw class.

They file in, some looking timid and nervous, others confident and bold. Most of my Ravenclaw's flash me a smile, which warms my little heart. I like to think I am a good head of house, and my introduction speech to the first years always makes them feel like they can approach me should they feel like it.

The class settles down, and I beam at them all from atop my pile of books. One of my students once asked me how I could balance myself on a chair and pile of books.

I was a duelling champion once, my balance, agility, speed are in top shape. Besides, the pile of books are charmed too.

I begin taking the roll call. The students' reaction can be very telling. The shy ones only-half raise their hands, the bolder ones tend to shout out their presence loudly.

I am not paying the names themselves too much attention, so when his name comes, I almost fall off my chair.

"Potter, Harry."

Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived! James and Lily's son - Lily Evan's son!

My eyes fall upon his green and silver tie, and the Slytherin crest on his robes, and I try not to feel sad about it. Maybe Harry Potter will turn out different from most Slytherins...

I was so shocked yesterday when the hat announced he was in Slytherin, I had fallen off my seat. A Potter in Slytherin! James Potter was the very image of Gryffindor, and his son was sorted in with the snakes!  
I tried to stop that line of thought, I really did. Not all Slytherins are bad, there have been one or two good wizards and witches... Possibly. Ah yes - Andromeda Tonks. There's one.

His response is to slightly incline his head and raise his hand, completely outstretched towards the ceiling.

I study him for a moment. He looks calm and assured. I am about to continue with the roll call, but then I really notice him.

Harry Potter is sitting towards the front, and to the extreme right.  
He sits next to another Slytherin - Blaise Zabini. I remember the name because he was the last one to be called.

His position is such that he can see almost everyone in the room by turning his head just a little bit. The way he sits... He seems to be perhaps a bit lazy at first sight, but then I notice a duelist in him. There is an alertness in his stance, a readiness. I only recognize it because my duelling master used to be that way.

When I don't continue with the roll, Harry's eyes move over to stare into mine.  
I would like to think that I am brave, a capable fighter, not easily scared, specially not by a first year.

But those mismatched eyes are eerie. The green eye is beautiful. The grey is almost like a blind man's. It seems to gaze into my very soul, and yet I can see nothing within it. No light, no emotion seems to be present in that grey eye. For that matter, the green eyes gives nothing away either, but it does look human.  
And the face. That blank face, devoid of any expression. It unnerves me.

I quickly look away, and continue with the roll call.

Harry Potter seems to listen carefully to whatever I have to say. My enthusiasm is not dampened by the roll call, and I vigorously explain the basics of charms and what they will be studying. For a while, I notice Harry's face slightly change , he seems to sit up that little bit straighter. This boy is a learner.

He takes down very brief notes, much shorter than most of his classmates. But when walking through the rows, I glance at his book and read. He has captured the essence of my lecture perfectly! This boy would be a joy to teach, if only he showed some enthusiasm himself! I feel that it is there, he wishes to learn, but he does not show it.

When the class is over, he stows his books and quills away slowly, carefully. Most of the class has left by the time he stands up. He looks at me, and his face breaks into a smile. A really wonderful smile, this boy is going to attract quite a few ladies when he grows up.

"Thank you, Professor," he says quietly, and then leaves.

My heart soars, and I feel very happy. This is what teaching is all about, I love to teach!

I watch him as he walks to the door, and remember the way he sat in the class - the alert, ready posture, calm and confident.

It is so much more pronounced when he walks. I see my duelling master in him once again. His movements are easy and smooth. His back is straight, chin up.  
He walks - no, stalks - to the open door, and is lost to my sight.

That boy... That boy is a predator.

* * *

_Professor_ Minerva_ McGonagall_

Eleven years ago, on Halloween night, I warned Albus against placing that little baby on the doorstep of his relatives. He insisted it was the right course of action.

Seven years later, I find out he had Arabella Figg watch over Harry. A near batty squib, who was most certainly not the right person for the job. Arabella Figg uses the floo, comes rushing in through the headmaster's fireplace, shouting "He's gone!"  
She told us that the police was swarming all over Privet Drive #4.  
Albus and I rushed to the scene. Petunia and Dudley Dursley had gone out shopping. They had come back to an empty house.

Questions were asked about what was in the house, who were missing, and that's when we found out Hard Potter was being abused, in a most brutal, and horrific manner. The cupboard under the stairs was evidence enough, add to that the reports in the neighbourhood of a small, thin, child. A lunatic child, wild, uncontrollable, insane, a child in need of discipline... That's what the Dursley's told everybody around them.

Me and Albus forced the truth out of Petunia Dursley. She admitted to child-abuse. Apparently it had started out small, and then Harry always seemed to heal from any bruise, any cut. Harry used to perform accidental magic regularly at a young age, and that drove Vernon Dursley to worse heights. Dudley, the boy, was what his parents made him - a cruel bully. He probably didn't even consider Harry to be human.

Petunia Dursley was locked away in an institution - her mind had almost broken under the shock and stress. Dudley was sent to some strict boarding school.

Two days later, we learnt that Vernon Dursley's body had been found, his neck broken.

We searched for Harry Potter, just the two of us - me and Albus. I did not expose him for a few reasons - he is the pillar of light in our society, his presence keeps Lucius Malfoy and his cronies from wielding too much power in the Wizengamot. And despite this mistake, I believe in Albus Dumbledore. He led us through two wars. He is wise, compassionate... The man even has a phoenix. Leaving Harry with the Dursley's led was a horrific mistake, yes. But I do not believe he meant for Harry to suffer there. Albus has always believed in the good of humanity.  
There is another reason - because should Harry Potter be found sometime later, it would not be fair upon him for his story to be told to the entire Wizarding public. If he wished for the public to know he had been abused, he could do so himself. There are issues in that too - magical folk would be out for blood then, and innocent Muggles would bear the brunt of their rage.

My tail whips around and coils around my legs. I watch, as the first student enters - a lone Hufflepuff boy. He looks around the classroom nervously - possibly looking for me. All he sees is a cat, he has no idea that I am an animagus - he probably doesn't even know what is an Animagus.

The class slowly fills up, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins file in. And then he enters.

Harry Potter walks in. Messy black hair, slightly on the short side with a lean, slim build, the bottom of his famous scar just peeking out. He looks assured and relaxed.

I feel sad for him. Such a young boy, to have suffered so much...

The green and gray eyes move smoothly all over the room, and come to rest on me. I get this strange feeling that he knows, and it is confirmed when the corner of his mouth pulls up and he inclines his head.

"Good Morning Professor," he says softly, so only my acute cat-senses can hear.

I resist the urge to mewl in surprise. Harry is the first student to ever discover me! How did he do it?

But then, Harry's face breaks out into a smile, and I forget all about my foiled ploy. His face is transformed, the green eye lights up, he looks years younger.

I follow his gaze, and my eyes land on a Hufflepuff girl. She has dark red hair and grey eyes, and she too is beaming back at Harry.

Wait, what?

Isn't that the girl who wrote to us, asking for admission? Yes it's her - Miss Kyle. I don't remember her first name.

How does she know Harry?

Harry begins to walk over to the girl, and casually drops into the chair besides her.

There is complete silence in the class, everyone turns to stare at him. At least, those who weren't staring at him at first. The Hufflepuff boys don't look very happy, but they don't seem antagonistic. The Hufflepuff girls don't seem to mind at all, Susan Bones even smiles at Harry, and he inclines his head in return. He probably knows her from when he contacted Amelia Bones to help legally counter Albus.  
Some of the Slytherins look disgusted and angry - Draco Malfoy sneers and makes a scathing noise. He is about to make some sort of comment, and I think its time I showed myself to the class, and stop the situation from escalating.

I spring up from the desk, falling to the floor, and transforming back to my human self.

The class let's out startled gasps, and one even tumbles backwards in his chair. I do manage to stop myself from letting out a satisfied smirk.

My strict-teacher face is in place, and the class instantly falls silent.

First things first.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex, and dangerous magic you will learn here at Hogwarts," I say. This short monologue stamps my authority on the class, and impresses upon them the seriousness of the magic they will perform. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

I begin the class with a brief demonstration that draws looks of longing and awe from most of the students. I think Harry is interested, I can tell from years of experience, but there isn't much expression in his face - it's hard to be sure.

I take the roll, and everybody is present. The girl sitting besides Harry, her name is Sally Kyle.

This first class is simply an introductory class, I will only give them some basic instruction and let them go.

A few minutes into the class, I have to stop. Sally Kyle keeps whispering, talking to Harry, and it is getting on my nerves. She does it skilfully enough, talking only when I am not looking, but I have years of experience, and rather sharp ears - something that stems from having an animagus cat form.

"Miss Kyle, is there anything you'd like to share with the class? You seem to be discussing something very important?"

She looks surprised at being caught, but manages to look contrite. She shakes her head dutifully and looks down at her book.

My heart skips a beat, and I almost drop my wand when I notice Harry. The face is almost emotionless, but the eyes are narrowed just that little bit. The green eye flashes emotion violently.

He shifts in his seat, and immediately Sally's head jerks up. Her arm darts out and briefly lands on Harry's arm. She whispers something, and then looks back down.

The whole thing happened so fast! What just happened? It almost seemed as if he wanted to confront me.

That dead, yet unforgiving face, the violent flash of emotion in that green eye scared me. I quickly dismiss the thought. He is only a young boy. Even if he has lived through all sorts of hardships, he is only eleven years old. What can he possibly to do me? He does not know any magic, no offensive spells, no defensive wards, nothing at all.

Time passes quickly. Harry seems cold, distant, but he takes down every important point. The girl - Sally - takes much more copious notes, but doesn't miss much either.

I wind up the class and dismiss the students. Sally says something to Harry as they stand up. They converse for a few short seconds, and I carefully observe them. She appears to be asking something of him, and he apparently agrees.

Sally leaves, and Harry takes his time gathering up his supplies.

His head comes up, and an apologetic look is fixed on his face. He smiles slightly, and it changes his face.

"Thank you, Professor." He says softly. The 'Sorry' goes unsaid, but is understood. Although I am not sure what precisely he is apologizing for, I haven't understood what happened during the class.

"You are welcome ..." I pause, and ask a most important question. "Mr. Potter, I must congratulate you on discovering my Animagus form. It might please you to know that you are the first to do so. Tell me, how did you know I was the cat?"

Harry seems amused. "I don't think I've seen a cat sit so stiffly Professor," he replies.

The last of the students leave, and it just me and Harry now.

"I knew your parents ," I say suddenly, and yet trying to choose my words very carefully. "They were wonderful people, and good friends."

I try to derive something from his face. Hope, gratitude, longing... Anything. I find nothing.

"I'm sure they were Professor, I wouldn't know."

The words twist into my heart, and I ache for this young boy. He says it so casually...

My throat has closed up, and he takes my silence as dismissal. Harry is about to open the door, when I find my voice.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out.

Harry pauses. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Professor."

"I - I'm so sorry." My professional-teacher's face is broken, and I know my eyes are wet. My legs suddenly feel weak, and I sit down abruptly.

Harry slowly turns, and a confused expression forms on his face. "I'm afraid I do not understand what you are talking about."

"Ten years ago, Albus placed you on a doorstep," I say. His posture changes, the puzzled expression on his face vanishes, his face becomes a blank mask. The green eye regards me coldly.

"I was there." James and Lily were my favourites, and Harry looks so much like James... Seeing him, teaching him, all the guilt has come crashing down back on me tenfold. Why am I telling him all this? I must, I have to tell him... Even if he hates me.

"I warned against Albus against it, but his reasons seemed sound, and they were your relatives... I had no idea what they would do to you-"

"Who knows?"

"What?" I ask, surprised.

"Who else knows about me?" Harry's voice is hard.

"Only me and the headmaster," I assure him. His first thought is for his own privacy - not to condemn me, nor reassure me.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly.

"I should have checked up on you, I should have stopped Albus..."

Harry's eyes bore into mine, and I feel like he is judging me. A brief flicker of that irrational fear returns, and I quash it. He is only an untrained, eleven year old wizard.

"I understand," Harry says, his face completely devoid of emotion, his tone flat, without any inflection.

I don't think he does.

"If you need any help, do not hesitate to contact me," I offer. "Severus might not be very receptive of you..."

A ghost of a smile flits across his lips. "Have a good day Professor."

I blink, and he is gone, the door closing slowly behind him.

* * *

_Professor Pomona Sprout_

I regard my Hufflepuffs fondly as they walk into the greenhouse. They seem to be a really great bunch of kids - especially the girls.

My house is often looked down upon, but there is a great strength in the unity of our house. I don't believe any other house has as much fun as ours does - we encourage all the students to mix, irrespective of which year they belong to. Competitions, games are always being held, and everyone generally has a great time here.

But even as they file in, I sense that something is wrong. Susan and Hannah are whispering to each other, and keep looking towards the entrance. The boys too hold huddled conversations, and seem to be waiting for something.

The Slytherins walk in now, and they too seem to be uneasy. Draco Malfoy stares angrily at the entrance, a sneer on his face. He and another Slytherin exchange a look - they do not approve of... I know what.

Harry Potter and Sally Kyle.

I was shocked at lunch, when a Slytherin walked into the Great Hall, chatting amicably to a Hufflepuff. They paused at the Slytherin table, and continued talking. Well, Sally was. Harry was listening and nodding - he seemed to be receiving instructions of some sort.

"They sat together in my class," Minerva whispered to me, and I nearly fell off my seat. What!?

Almost half a minute passed, and most eyes were on the two. They did not seem to care, and completed their conversation before going to their respective tables.

Sally Kyle. She didn't say too much about her past in our interactive morning session for the first years, but she seemed like a smart, bright kid.

And Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. A Potter, sorted into Slytherin. A young boy who seems to act like a man - it's those eyes, one green, the other grey. I am not sure how I feel about this friendship. There is no real information about Harry Potter. The moment he was sorted into Slytherins there were whispers of a new Dark Lord, but perhaps that is far-fetched. I do fear some sort of reprisal against Sally from the Slytherins, and even Harry Potter may face animosity from his own house for their friendship.

The two of them come to a stop somewhere in the middle of the greenhouse - closer to the Slytherins than the Hufflepuffs, but not quite on either side.

"Settle down!" I call out, sending yellow sparks flying out of my wand.

The class goes silent, and most eyes turn to me. Draco Malfoy is still staring at Harry Potter.

"My name is Pomona Sprout," I announce, taking a few steps up to the raised dias at the head of the greenhouse. "I am your Herbology teacher, and will be for the next few years. Right - roll call!"

I finish the roll, and start with a small demonstration, showing them a few of the more interesting plants I have put up, hanging from the roof.

There are a few ooh's and aah's as a purple plant sends out a large multicoloured beam of light, and a nearby leafy plant changes colours. A Devil's Snare crushes a twig, a small, yellowish bush begins to move about wildly when I pour water on it.

Most of the class is paying attention, and I think I'm doing quite a good job here, keeping them interested. There are one or two - like Draco Malfoy , who don't seem very impressed. He probably thinks Herbology isn't worth his time, and the idea of kneeling in dirt and potting plants must be horrifying for him - the pampered boy.

I don't like Lucius Malfoy very much, and young Draco seems to be just like his father - sneering, condescending... I'll give him a chance to prove his worth however, it's only fair.

Sally and Harry both listen carefully, and Sally gasps in all the right places. Harry's blank face shows some intrigue as I cycle through the various plants - did he seem particularly interested in the Devil's Snare? No, it must be my imagination.

I finish the class with allowing everyone to try and grab a small pebble from the mouth of a Wild Polymane. If it detects anything trying to pass through it's open 'mouth' of sorts, the petals immediately clamp shut.  
It doesn't hurt - the petals are rather soft, and the plant is quite durable, yanking out a hand doesn't hurt it.

The majority of the students fail. Only three students come anywhere close.

Sally Kyle comes very close, and groans as she just fails to make it. I am going to enjoy teaching this girl - she is very responsive.  
Justin Finch-Fletchley manages to remove the pebble, but drops it as the petals scratch the tips of his fingers.

I pick up the pebble, freeze the plant by applying the right amount of pressure in the right place, and put the pebble back.

Harry Potter steps forward to the plant, and cocks his head slightly to a side.

Someone sniggers at the back, and I turn my head to silence her. A flash of movement catches my eye just as I do so.

It takes me split second to look back at Harry. He holds out his hand, palm up, a pebble sitting on his hand.

* * *

_Professor Severus Snape_

I watch dispassionately as the childish, sickeningly eager children file through the door.

A few of the Gryffindors already look scared - it seems my reputation precedes me. Good.

My eyes fall upon a bushy-haired girl, and I curl my lip. She is almost jumping up and down, I can see her lips move soundlessly... This girl is going to be a pain. I just know it.

I always stand here for my first class, a few paces away from the door. I observe the first years, dismiss them all as stupid and incompetent - which they are - and enter a few minutes later, giving them all time to stew.

"Good Morning Professor," says a soft, low voice. It is layered with just a hint of frost, of ice.

I stare incredulously at the back of a student as he walks past. Never have I been spotted before! It's Potter! The brazen, spoiled, arrogant boy! The nerve of him!

For once, I am stewing too, as I wait for a few minutes before entering the classroom. Damn James Potter, damn his son!

He probably thinks as a Slytherin and the Boy-who-Lived, I will pander to his every wish and whim. Hah! As if!

I throw open the door and stalk menacingly into the class, my glare finding an annoying Gryffindor. The dark boy gulps visibly, and I sneer magnificently.

I commence with roll call. The dratted name pops up at me, it mocks me from the parchment.

"Ah yes," I say softly. "Harry Potter - our new celebrity."

I scrutinize him dispassionately. "I do hope you have no false ideas that your... Title, will grant you any favors where I am concerned."

Draco and his friends snigger. By saying this, I have let Draco know there will be no punishment against those wishing to take on the last Potter. And my godson will spread the word in Slytherin house. The public humiliation is an added bonus.

The boy tilits his head to a side, and his eyes bore into mine. He nods, very slightly, and I know he has understood the underlying message. I did not expect that.

He looks almost... Amused? Briefly, I wonder if I am making a mistake... No. This is just the Potter boy, eleven years old, an arrogant little brat.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," I say softly, and the class falls completely silent. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, emanating the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Which they are, all of them - dunderheads. Especially Potter.

He sits there, looking slightly amused, almost smirking...

"Potter!" I bark out suddenly. I expect him to be startled, to jolt up, but he simply inclines his head.

"What would I get if I added powedered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know sir," is the instant reply.

The bushy girl's hand had shot up into the air. I was right. This girl is going to be a pain. Possibly even a competent Gryffindor - I almost shiver at the thought.

I curl my lip. "Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

Finally - a reaction. The boy straightens up that tiny bit, and the amused expression vanishes. The eyes narrow slightly, the head gilts upwards... The blank, yet unforgiving expression is terrifying. It does not belong to an eleven year old - but Potter pulls it off. It's that infernal grey eye - I wonder how that happened. Faulty genes possibly - from James Potter, of course.

The look unnerves me so much, I forget to ask the next question, and hate the boy all the more for it.

A few seconds pass, and the boy nods. "No it isn't," he softly agrees.

He looks disappointed... Wait, what? Disappointed? He - I - Potter - ARGH!

I tell them to brew an overly simplistic potion, and yet they manage to not get it right. Dunderheads.

Potter actually does decently, his potion is the right colour, but...

"A jelly like texture, Potter? I didn't expect much from you, but you seemed to have managed to create a new potion altogether... Well done." I sneer magnificently, and even the thickest Gryffindor can see I was being sarcastic.

The corner of his lip pulls up slightly - he is back to being amused.

Resisting the urge to curse him, I press on, turning to another awful potion - a Gryffindor's - of course.

The class finishes, and the students begin to leave. Potter stands up, and picks up his bag.

"Thank you, Professor" he says, and his voice is again, not that of an eleven year old's. It is ice cold and there is a dark promise in the tone. Is he subtly threatening me?

For a second, I am reminded of another boy. He was older than me, and when I think about it, there is a likeness between the two.

Tom Riddle.

Harry Potter reminds me of Tom Riddle for that split second, and all my conceived notions about this boy tilt. He is still an arrogant brat, but perhaps, perhaps - he is a dangerous arrogant brat. Not now, surely, but someday. Albus will need to be warned.

Damn Potter.

* * *

_Professor Quirinius Quirrel_

The boy intrigues me, intrigues my master. Harry Potter is not what I expected, he is not a champion of the light, sorted into Gryffindor.

He is a Slytherin, and he seems to be dark. Not magically so, but dark as in from the inside. Perhaps not truly dark - but not light either.

He is one of the very few students who actually paid attention throughout my stammering, completely useless class.

There is an alertness around the boy, a readiness. I did not notice it - but my master did. He will be a powerful, dangerous wizard someday.

Perhaps, he could be subtly guided, and turned to power? For there is no true light and dark, only power, and those strong enough to seize and use it.

The boy also seems to be slightly... Inhumane. He shows emotions very rarely - the most you see is amusement, and a smile, a large, wonderful smile that my master informs me is fake. It seemed real enough to me.

The girl... Sally Kyle. What is her story? How does she know Harry, why is she the only person he properly talks to? How is it that a Slytherin and Hufflepuff talk so much, interact the way they do?

But master sees an advantage there.

The boy possibly cares for Sally. A stupid, weak feeling that Master assures me is not really true.

Sally Kyle is his weakness.

* * *

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**Thank you for reading. Please do leave reviews. Suggestions, requests, constructive criticism, advice, praise are all welcomed. **

**If anyone is wondering about Harry is doing in these few days I give from the teacher's perspective - nothing has happened. Sally and Harry have sat at their own tables at meals, just walked with each other to classes, and have sat together in them.**

**Classes shared -**

**Potions - Gryffindor and Slytherin  
Transfiguration - Hufflepuff and Slytherin  
Charms - Ravenclaw and Slytherin  
Herbology - Hufflepuff and Slytherin  
Astronomy - Hufflepuff and Slytherin  
Flying - Gryffindor and Slytherin  
History of Magic - Ravenclaw and Slytherin**

**Next chapter - Harry.**

**Cheers,  
Timefreak**


	5. Chapter Five - Harry

**Disclaimer** - **I own neither Batman, nor Harry Potter.**

* * *

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* * *

**_Emerald Eye Knight_**

**_Part One_**

**Chapter Five - Harry**

I have spent these first few days cautiously, getting to know Hogwarts and its teachers.

The castle itself is splendid, and nice enough. It could be a very fun place to live in.  
There are many staircases, trick steps, illusions... There is this door that will open only on a Friday - all sorts of weird stuff.

Me and Sally met Peeves the Polterigist when walking to Herbology. The corridor was empty, and then suddenly we were under attack... Or I thought we were.

Honed senses, practiced reactions took over. I whirled Sally around, placing myself in the line of fire - which turned out to be only small pieces of chalk, several of them. A Jade Knife made its way to my hand, and I brought up my arm, ready to throw.

"Stop!" Sally orders.

I stop the throw, and draw a second knife.

"That's just Peeves - the others told me about him." She informs me.

The Polterigist eyes me warily, probably scared by my reactions and ferocity. I am told I can be very scary. I can intimidate most people, or at least unnerve them.

"You like mischief don't you Peeves?" Sally asks, and she has this spark in her eyes. Uh-oh.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Peeves cries, bobbing up and down in midair.

Sally grins. "Why don't we make a deal?"

So we made a deal. Peeves will not trouble me or Sally. We can rely on him to help us out if we ever need to bend a few rules... Will he really help us? That is debatable.  
In return, Peeves asked that we get him a couple of things - from the office of Argus Filch.

I agree. It should not be too difficult to sneak in. Peeves really isn't too bad a guy, once you get to know him.

The teachers...

The Charms Professor is nice. He teaches well, and with a heady enthusiasm. He used to be a duelling champion... I will win him over, then approach him for some help.

Professor McGonagall is strict, but a good teacher. I had a misunderstanding in her class. When she chastised Sally, I felt anger in me, that someone would speak to her like this. Sally stopped me from doing or saying anything, and told me to smile and apologize at the end of the class.

I did, because she told me to. It was only later that Sally explained that it was normal, and it had actually been her fault for persistently talking in class. I feel regardless, a teacher should be more polite, less cynical. Or perhaps I am just biased when it comes to Sally.

_'Ten years ago, Albus placed you on a doorstep... I was there.'_

For a brief moment, I felt emotions long suppressed. Emotions I had turned into something more, into a willpower so powerful, it is almost supernatural.

_Hate_, and _Anger._ Boiling Hot, spewing up forth from within me, like lava from a volcano... Hate and Anger that can consume anything and everything. Unnatural Hate. Unnatural Anger.

I quickly suppressed it, shut it away, brought back an unbreakable resolve - only resolve, no deep emotions attached.

My Hate and Anger always lies in wait though. It is fuel, power waiting to be used... Terrible power. For Emotions rule the world, and sometimes, yes - even me.

A few simple words, and a monster was unleashed within me.

But I felt nothing for the Professor. No real hate, maybe a tiny, lingering annoyance.

She has nothing to be sorry for. I am what I am because of what happened.

I am no Shining Knight, with wonderful morals, chivalry, a bright smile and words of comfort. I am dark, deadly, I can kill and not dwell on it.

Maybe my first few years were a sort of penance for the wrongs I did, will do, for what is right. Perhaps I deserved it - I used to think I did. A child is very impressionable. I believed I deserved it all.

Now, I am unsure. The Dursley's were certainly cruel and callous, deserving of the worst hell-fire and damnation.  
But I... Does my current self deserve the punishment of the past?

_Such dark musings Harry Potter..._

I can get too philosophical at times. What is done, is done.

Professor Quirrel is completely useless.

History of Magic is a boring lesson. Most of the class went to sleep not ten minutes into the lecture. I didn't, I stayed awake the whole class. It wasn't too hard, I am disciplined enough to sit straight and pay attention. I even gleaned a bit of useless information... Or is it? Can any information be described as useless?

I wonder if its a sign of mental illness - having ethical and philosophical debates with yourself.

Professors Sinistra and Sprout and are both nice, good teachers. I am pleased Sally has such a nice head of house - someone she can go to if she ever needs any help.

And of course - Severus Snape. Professor Snape.

He hates me, he loathes me. He amuses me. An old grudge, carried over onto an eleven year old child...

"What are you thinking about?"

I swivel to eye Sally. "Just how pathetic Severus Snape really is... I am considering the possiblity of killing him. He is responsible for a lot of the division among houses, and is a hateful man. He has given the Slytherins free reign to do what they would like to me. He only said that today, so there have been no attacks, no bullying as of yet. But there will be."

"Okay, about those bullies... Please don't kill them."

I nod. "Of course not."

"And don't kill Snape either."

I bow my head. "Yes, Princess."

The Princess and her Knight. Selina took us for this fancy dress competition a year ago. We were fawned over, a lot of people told us how sweet we looked, and we ended up in second place. I did not really have a lot of fun, but Sally and Selina enjoyed themselves, so I was happy.

I think Sally made a pretty Princess.

She giggles. "Thank you, Jade Knight."

I smile, then look back out at the Black Lake, gleaming lava under the red setting sun. "I think, perhaps I should get myself a snake... It would boost my status among the Slytherins..."

"And everyone would think you're Dark Lord Junior - that's for sure."

I shrug. It does not matter too much.

The sun is setting now, and I lean out further over the wall of the tower. Sally and I are at the top of a short tower, overlooking the grounds and the Black Lake. Snow on mountains reflect red blood, and an ever-changing, azure sky spreads over us.

In the morning, I place what is hard to bear, by what brings me some happiness.

In the evening, I bring back a very particular memory.

For many, it is hard to understand how such a simple memory can be my best. It was a little while after me, Sally, and Selina had got comfortable together. Bane was dead.

It was twilight, and we were relaxing in the balcony at Selina's new flat. Skyscrapers stood up tall and proud against the setting sun, lining the boundary of an artificial bay. A simple bridge spans the length of the bay, and pinpricks dart along it. A few lights are already on, shining through windows, people draw their curtains, the street lights are just coming on. I could see human figures bustling along the edge of the water - some commuting back from work, others walking their pets, another jogging along...

Sally was wearing her customary oversized tee shirt, and she had a pair of track pants on. Selina was dressed casually too, in a simple, long dress. She only wears provocative dresses when she needs to. She prefers not be ogled at. And she is of the opinion, that if you show too much skin, you're almost asking to be ogled. I have seen older men ogle her. I'm not very sure why. I have eyed her very, very carefully, but never felt the need to stare, and keep staring. Something to do with being older, apparently. Anyway...

We were seated around a small, round wooden table, sipping goblets of freshly made orange juice.

No words were spoken. No words were needed to be spoken.

Sally catches my eye and smiles widely, the light breeze lifting a strand of fire-hair up against the sky. Selina grabs it and yanks it down and around Sally's ear - drawing laughter and giggles from both of them.

This... This is peace. This is happiness. There are millions of men all around us, working, praying, sleeping, eating... For what?

This is worth everything, this is worth fighting for. There are families out there - good people, caring husbands and fathers, loving wives and mothers, young and happy children.

There are few things more important than family.

The thought struck a chord deep within me. Did I truly consider these two humans seated across me as family? Do I even deserve to have a family? Was I even capable of having a family?

Perhaps not. But I can always try.

The overwhelming feeling of content I felt that evening bubbles up within me, and it is so vast and precious, it is almost painful. So beautiful, I could almost cry. If I knew how to.

I draw my mind back to the present. There is a strong wind, and Sally let's out a whoop of delight, standing up tall on the tower ledge, arms spread wide, shirt rippling, and hair flying out behind her.

It is strange that seeing her so happy makes me happy... Is it? Sally and Cass think I do not know the term the doctor gave the nature of my relationship to them. What did he call it? A type of _Attachment disorder_... Is that all it is? A disorder? Not really true?

No. I do not believe that. Perhaps there is an element of that, an effect of my upbringing. I do care for them.

I honestly believe Sally and Selina care for me, despite my past, and my future.

"You know what?" Sally calls out above the wind. "We should get kites up here, it would be awesome!"

I make a mental note about it. By the end of next week, Sally will have her kites. I have rarely even seen the things - they are a child's toy. I never had toys, nor was I a child.

"Have you flown a kite before?" I ask her.

Sally scrunches up her forehead. "Uhh, yeah. I did, once... I don't really remember, I was six then. But it was fun!"

The sun disappears behind majestic mountains, and Sally jumps down from the ledge to stand besides me. "Harry? About Professor Snape, you won't kill him, will you?"

I shake my head. I didn't truly mean it. Did Sally really feel I would kill Snape? "I won't. I was just messing with you. He has not done anything to warrant that." _Yet._

Sally stares at me. "You know that time Selina told you about inappropriate humor?"

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah... So, tonight huh?"

I nod. Tonight, most probably, I will see the first instance of powerplay within Slytherin house. Snape has given them permission today, in Potions class. Many of them are unhappy that I talk so much with Sally. For their sake, I hope they don't try anything with her. That, I will not forgive.

"I will try not to hurt anyone permanently," I assure her.

"Then you won't," she says confidently.

I share that confidence. I am a wolf among sheep here.

"Maybe you can try using your wand?" Sally suggests.

A second later, the holly wood is in my hand, the phoenix feather ready to draw upon magic and discharge it. Eleven inches, holly and phoenix.

"Yes," I say. "Perhaps I will. "

I have learnt two spells. A shield charm -_ Protego,_ and the _Petrificus Totalus._ It immobilizes the target.

A normal first year should barely be able to cast a Protego, but I am not normal. I am powerful, built and toughened by necessity.

_"Protego_," I incant, and a soft, shimmering, shield appears. It is slightly coloured - green, Jade.

A flash of steel, and Sally drags her silver throwing knife across the surface of my shield. It holds steady for a second, flickers, then disappears.

Like always. My _Protego_ isn't much good against anything physical, but it can block a fair deal of magic.

"How much of your abilities do you want to keep hidden?" Sally asks.

"Just my true-wand."

"Really?"

I nod. "Unless you have a different view."

"Well... Not really. Maybe you shouldn't speak to any snakes just yet?"

"Okay."

Sally fishes around in her pockets and brings out a pack of cigarettes. She takes one and offers the pack to me.

I stare dubiously at it.

"Selina told us not to," I remind her. "Once a week, that's all."

Sally grins. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

I struggle to make a decision, and Sally finally takes out a cigarette herself, and throws it at me. I catch it.

Bane used to leave the base often. A while after he found me, when I was a lot more relaxed around his men, a group of them offered me cigarettes. The first breath made me cough, but when Bane returned at the end of the week, I had a cigarette almost everyday.

He wasn't very pleased.

He didn't ask me to completely stop though. I limited myself to two cigarettes a week, one every three days.

Sally started smoking only a few months before Selina found her. The kids she used to hang out used to indulge in all sorts of things, but they also shielded her from the worst because she was very young.  
I know she's tried some drug once. Just that once.

Sally wasn't a chain-smoker by any means though. Selina got her to have just one a week. Later, I too followed that pattern. We smoke together now, once a week.

There is this magical potion that clears our lungs. It produces a burning sensation in the throat, but is worth the result. But its only effective for those who smoke little - like me and Sally - once a week. Any more often than that, and the potion is useless. And it doesn't work on non-magicals.

An easy silence falls on us, which Sally finally breaks. "Well then, I think its time we left."

My grey and green eyes stare up at the now dark sky. A blanket of stars twinkle mysteriously, a crescent of a moon dangles precariously low, just above the mountain-tops. Even in the dark, storm clouds are visible as they race across the sky. For a second, a planet is visible, Mars shows itself. Then the clouds cover it once more.

It is time to see Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

"Professor McGonagall?"

Her head snaps up, and she sits up straight. "Mr. Potter?"

"I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore."

"Why?" She wants to know.

"I need to speak with him," I repeat.

"The Headmaster is a very busy man Harry -"

"I'm sure he is Professor. Regardless, I need to speak with him." I meet her eyes squarely. "I think Professor Dumbledore would be very interested in speaking to me. We both know he has an interest in me."

She narrows her eyes at my words.

"Professor, I mean no disrespect. I have no desire to see the headmaster myself, you know why. Unfortunately, certain circumstances have forced my hand."

She blinks, absorbs what I have just said, then makes a decision.

"Follow me."

I do so. She leads me for less than a minute, finally stopping by an empty room.

"Please wait inside, I will get Albus, assuming he can come."

I incline my head. "Thank you Professor."

Professor McGonagall flashes me a rare smile. She makes to say something more, hesitates, then shuts her mouth.

There are a few desks and chairs stacked up against the wall. I pull out a chair and drag it towards the center of the room.

It is a psychological thing. He will be sitting, I will be standing, pacing, looking down at him.  
Add a desk to the chair though, and he has the advantage.

I lean against the far wall patiently. It takes five minutes for the old man to arrive. He walks in through the open door, and shuts the door behind him.

I push away from the wall, and survey the man wordlessly. He stares back, a warm gaze. Almost as if he cares for me.

He doesn't.

Our eyes meet, and he holds my gaze. It speaks volume about his own power and will. Not many can stare into my eyes.

Again. Something sparks within me, and I almost to introduce Albus Dumbledore to Jade.

I fight the massive waves of emotion that threaten to wash me away. Anger, Hate. Hate, Anger.

What is happening to me? I am my own master, I will not allow myself to feel these emotions.  
I push back relentlessly, and with sheer willpower, force them away, and lock them back into the void they came from.

It leaves a little shaken though. I have not felt this in a long time, and here, I have already felt it twice within two days.

* * *

"_You can't just block it all up Harry," Selina tries to explain. "It's not healthy, not for you, not for anyone. You are human, to have emotions is natural. Some can - "_

_"I am Knight," I respond, cutting her off._

_"You are human!" She almost shouts._

_"Only in body," I whisper back. And its true._

* * *

"Good evening Professor," I say blankly, gesturing to the chair.

Dumbledore's response is to draw his wand and flick it. I almost draw my knife in retaliation, but wait to see what he does.

Dumbledore summons another chair from across the room, and places it right in front of the other chair. He sits down, and smiles warmly.

"Please, do sit Harry - may I call you Harry?"

"It does not matter," I reply honestly.

"Thank you. This is, as you say, your party. Please, do tell me what requires my presence?"

I drop into the seat opposite him and smile easily. There's not much to it, I just stretch out my lips a little, pulling up the corners of my mouth. I practiced this in front of a mirror.

"I am sure you are aware of the problems that existed between my father and Professor Snape. I am afraid that dislike has been carried onto me." I pause for breath. The headmaster tilts his head a little, twinkling blue eyes showing so much compassion, so much understanding...

"I am afraid that my status as the Boy-Who-Lived, my friendship with Sally Kyle and Professor Snape's blatant hatred of me might lead to unpleasant consequences for Slytherin house. Some within might take it upon themselves to teach me a lesson, establish their superiority..."

Dumbledore frowns. "Perhaps my boy, you are reading too much into the situation? After all-"

"Maybe I am," I say, interrupting him. He looks faintly surprised that I would do so. "But nevertheless, I feel I might get into some sort of a confrontation here."

"I make it a point to leave house discipline to the head-of-house," Dumbledore says, then smiles. "I will look into this, and make sure you are protected-"

"Oh, you misunderstand me Professor," I say with Jade in my voice. "I worry for them, not for myself."

Dumbledore narrows his eyes at that, and I explode into action.

The old man is surprisingly fast. I am faster.

I did not underestimate him. This is after all, possibly the most powerful wizard to live in recent times. There must be a reason why Voldemort fears this man.

One Jade knife thunks in between the old man's legs, pinning his robes to the chair. Dumbledore almost avoided it too, pulling back with amazing reflexes, but was too late.

The Headmaster is a very quick draw. A red spell bursts from his wand, speeding point-blank... But I am no longer there. My other knife crashes into the old man's arm, the block of Jade at the handle smashing into flesh with considerable force. Dumbledore's wand fumbles from his grasp, but he manages to hold on, the tip now pointing at the ground, held precariously between two fingers.

My heel smashes into the side of his neck, causing pain and disorientation. A leg sweeps up, and kicks the wand out of his grasp, sending it skittering away.

My holly and phoenix wand slides into my hand, and I bring it up.

_"Petrificus Totalus."_

It may not be enough. Such a powerful wizard may be capable of some wandless magic. The Headmaster could combat the body-bind with his innate magic, throwing it off with raw power.

I yank out my knife and bring it down on Dumbledore's neck, Jade resting against jugular.

"I could slice you open right now," I say softly. "And feel no remorse." My tone is uncaring, indifferent. That is how I should feel.

That is not how I feel.

There is some... Emotion, behind my actions. The Jade vibrates ever so slightly in my hand - only trained eyes can detect the slight shaking.  
For a brief, irrational second, I want to kill him, a fierce over-riding anger surges up. This man has wronged me.

I quickly gain control of myself. Only a second has passed.

"Listen well Professor. Listen carefully."

"I could have kept my abilities hidden," I say. "But, why should I? They're bound to come out sooner or later, and restricting myself is not something I wish to do."

"You have no grounds to confiscate my knife," I continue. "There is an old rule about ceremonial weapons - installed by Godric Gryffindor himself. The man loved his swords - there was a fencing class here at Hogwarts, once upon a time."

I take a few steps around him, my point of my knife now poking his skin. "My mind Dumbledore, is my own. Try Leglimency on me again, and I will take your wand-hand. If you still don't understand, I will take your life."

"I came here to try and reason with you, but you have dismissed my concerns. In the event that any Slytherin attacks me, I will retaliate, and blood will be spilt.

"Many of the Slytherins seem to dislike my friendship with Sally. Fair warning Dumbledore. If she comes to any sort of harm, if there is any attempt... There is no force on earth that can stop me from taking those responsible to hell and back. If she comes to any serious harm, not just now, but in any of the coming years, I will take off the kid gloves. And then, people will die Professor. You would do well to keep Sally Kyle safe."

I stroll around to face Dumbledore, and drop into my chair, knife at the ready. Have I missed anything in my monologue? Oh yes...

"You must be concerned Professor. A new Dark Lord is rising..." I chuckle, and the sound is like shattering glass. "I serve justice Headmaster. I do whatever I do to make the world a better place. I have no misconceptions about blood purity. I have no desire to wield power over everyone else. I have no desire to kill, maim and torture, for no other sake than to kill, maim and torture. I am no Dark Lord, and will never be."

"I attacked because you attempted Leglimency. I will now release you. If you attempt to attack me, I will not be so lenient."

Removing a body bind you have cast is simple. You merely have to tap the person with your wand, and intend for the spell to be released.

I do so, and Dumbledore straightens warily. He winces a bit - his neck must still hurt from where I chopped him.

Gone is the twinkle from his eyes. Gone is the grandfatherly aura. He seems to grow in his seat, there is a steel in his eyes. I catch a glimpse of the feared wizard underneath.

"The road to hell Harry, is paved with good intentions."

I laugh, and the man almost winces. This very laugh, Tonks has told me it is inhumane.

"You would know that Professor-" I say. "-Better than most. Understand this. You have made me what I am."

Dumbledore seems to age before my eyes. He is a talented actor.

"Harry -" he starts, then pauses and sighs. "When one holds as much responsiblity as I do, then the mistakes he does make can have severe consequences. I hope that someday, you will find it in you to look beyond my mistakes."

"I already have Headmaster," I reply. To an extent, I do understand his point. Placing me with the Dursley's was a decision that had some reason. But to never check up on me...

He seems a bit taken aback by my statement.

"Harry... As much as I may have wronged you, that is between the two of us. I cannot let you threaten the students and teachers of this school."

"You let a Death Eater teach us, Headmaster. A man who hates me because I look like my father. A father who I have never seen."

He tilts his head, analyzing me. "You are remarkably well informed... I suppose Andromeda Tonks and Amelia Bones are valuable sources of information."

"They are people," I retort. "Good people."

Dumbledore graciously bows his head. "As may that be, Professor Snape has my full trust. He is very important, and it is imperative that he remains here. There can be no question of his abilities either, Severus is one of the best potion Master's in today's world."

This is pointless. Albus Dumbledore will not listen.

"Perhaps it is better," I say slowly. "To let things happen, the way they will. If you do not interfere in house politics, and do not believe the threat is strong enough, it is best to let me deal with anything that arises."

Dumbledore narrows his eyes. He does not need to speak. I understand. The Headmaster is warning me, that he will not allow me free reign.

A bit hypocritical, really. On one hand, he lets Snape do whatever he wants. He turns a blind eye to the students plotting to attack me. But he chooses warn me.

Whatever. It does not matter.

"You speak of killing Harry. Do you believe nobody deserves another chance. I have met many who have turned their backs on what is wrong. Murder should be the last, the very last resort."

I stand. "We think very differently Headmaster. I believe we have nothing further to discuss. Goodnight Professor."

The genial, slightly barmy smile is back on his face. "Good night, Harry."

Dumbledore raises a hand, and his wand flies across the room and settles into his palm.

The Headmaster is showing me that he could have escalated our altercation, but chose to stop and hear me out.

I give no inclination of having understood the message.

The door closes behind, leaving an old man to his thoughts. A very pensive old man, I am sure.

* * *

As I make my way back after my meal, a bunch of students brush by, and someone surreptitiously tries to slip a note into my hand. I close my fingers around it, and watch curiously as Blaise Zabini walks on, not even looking my way.

Most of the Slytherins seem to be in a hurry. I slide into the shadows on the way, and glance at the parchment in my hands.

Zabini's handwriting is very neat, small, with lots of curls.

**_Be Careful_**

My fingers flex, and the note crumpled. I throw it in the nearest fire torch. The green flame sparks brighter for a few seconds, then the parchment is ash.

Whistling a funeral tune, I stop by the entrance and admire the tapestry. The green knight is wonderfully depicted, sword drawn, standing tall and proud against numerous foes.

I whisper the password, and enter.

The Common Room is pretty full. It seems like no one wants to miss the action.

It starts off almost immediately. Surprisingly, Draco Malfoy is not present.

Theodore Nott approaches, and all around, students sit straighter. I immediately identify the threats, those who are willing to draw their wands.

"Potter," Nott remarks coldly.

I run my eyes over him, then turn away dismissively.

"Hey, I'm talking to you Potter!"

I pause in midstep and slowly swivel back around. "Yes?" My tone and face are blank as usual. It is the most natural state for me.

"What's the Boy-Who-Lived doing here huh? You think you're fame will help you here? You walk around as if you own the place! You don't Potter. We do."

"You should ask the Sorting Hat, why was I was placed in Slytherin," I reply evenly. His last comment gets me thinking. I am aloof. Perhaps socially a bit awkward. Does this mean I come off as arrogant? Possibly... It is something I will need to discuss with Sally.

Theodore is embarrassing himself. The older students decide to intervene.

Thirteen of them ring me. I recognize some faces from photos Andromeda had told me. They are mostly the sons and daughters of death eaters. A pity. To be brainwashed like they have been, entire generations spoilt...

"We of Slytherin house do not associate ourselves with those beneath us," one tough-looking guy growls out.

"You're a half-blood," another says snottily. "But pure at least in part. You cannot associate yourself with that Hufflepuff anymore. We don't mingle with Hufflepuffs, and much less Muggleborns."

"Mudbloods," a girl spits.

This kind of situation is where one rolls his/her eyes. But that would increase their aggression, and so I desist. "Thank you for your advice," I say coolly, and step forward.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To my room," I reply, a trace of Jade entering my tone. Perhaps there will be no need for violence.

They seem to be at an impasse. I take another few steps forward, unhindered.

"You know, I think we'll teach that mudblood a lesson too.."

I sigh. Perhaps not.

"I was willing to retire to my room, without any violence." I pause and eye the boy that said those words. "I am warning all of you. Any threat to Sally Kyle will be treated as an act of war, and I will respond accordingly. Should you -"

And one of them snapped. A red hex flew towards my back, and I step out of the way.

Shaking my head, I draw a knife. There are sharp intakes of breath as they see Jade for the first time in their life. Possibly the finest weapon they have ever seen. That they will ever see.

My wand slides easily into my right hand.

I reverse my grip on the Jade handle and look around. "Shall we dance?"

And we dance.

Two curses fly through empty air - I am no longer there.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," I incant, and the white spell binds a girl in the middle of a hex. Jade connects with a boy's forehead, instantly knocking him out.

A blaze of colours light up the common room. I step back, do a back-flip, turn my head to avoid another light and throw another Petrificus Totalus. Again, success.

There are only seven left. I have taken out three. The rest are in varying degrees of discomfort, caught up in friendly fire. The spectators have taken refuge behind shield spells or furniture.

Two more join the fray. Nine now.

I swivel around, duck, and conjure a shield. _"Protego._"

Three spells are absorbed. A nasty looking yellow hex makes my shield disappear. I flip away.

"_Petrificus Totalus_." Success. That makes it three out of three. Bane would be satisfied.

I return my wand to my sheath, spinning away and launching a kick in the same motion. A burly boy bends over, clutching his solar plexus. My heel chop to his necks puts him out of the fight. He is now in too much pain to do anything.

Another goes down to friendly fire.

I systematically work my way around the room, anticlockwise. I introduce one boy's stomach to Jade, and he doubles over, wand dropping from his fingers. I knee him in the head, and he's out for the count.

The next is a girl. I dislike injuring women. Violence against women is unacceptable. They are to be respected, honoured. They play a most important role in society. I believe they are being cheapened in this modern age... But that long, moral debate is better suited for another time.

I simply pluck her wand and toss it away, and sweep her legs from under her, avoiding another two curses as I do so.

I grasp the next boy's wrist and swivel, twisting sharply, one elbow sweeping down. The small bones shatter, and he let's loose a pain-filled howl. This is the boy that threatened Sally. I continue moving, his arm locked in my grasp. Simple mechanics helps me hurl the much larger boy into the air, and he lands down heavily on the carpet.

I throw my knife at the boy furthest away. Jade tears through his shield and slams into his forehead. He was dangerous, and therefore put down out of turn. His spells were very accurate.

Two left. One is a really big guy. He runs at me. Foolish. Did he not just witness my physical prowess?

I bend backwards, avoiding a meaty fist. A swift kick catches him in a rather delicate area. I deliver a series of lightning fast jabs and punches. One to his solar plexus, the rest pepper his right arm. He drops his wand, and I know that entire limb is screaming in agony.

I step around the boy, pushing him forward and tripping him up neatly. A kick to his stomach ensures he won't be thinking about attacking anyone anytime soon.

Theodore Nott backs away , fear evident in his face.

I advance, returning my Jade knife back to it's sheath. The rest look at me with varying expressions. Fear, awe. Some seem happy that the bullies of the house have been dealt with.

Theodore waves his wand and shouts a spell, but nothing happens. I viciously head-butt him in the chest,and he goes down, all the air knocked out of his lungs.

And that's when Severus Snape strides into the room.

He immediately draws his wand and trains it on me.

"POTTER!" He yells, advancing threateningly.

I calmly meet his eyes, and Professor Snape makes a mistake.

Leglimency. Quite impressive actually. To be able to do it from that distance, non-verbally. And here I thought Dumbledore was the only one.

My hand is a blur. A Jade knife jumps to my hand, and flies towards the Professor.

Thunk!

For a split second, Professor Snape stands frozen, the handle of the knife almost sinking into his forehead. Then the knife falls with a clatter, and Professor Snape collapses.

He's not out yet. It was a poor throw, not enough power behind it. Disappointing. I will have to practice.

I draw my wand. "_Petrificus Totalus_," I whisper, and Snape can no longer move.

Pin-drop rest of the house stares at me as I retrieve my knives and put all my weapons away.

I look around. I have gone fairly easy on my attackers. Only two of them sport broken bones.

"Come on out," I call to all those peeking from behind cover. "You have nothing to fear from me, if you don't attack me or Sally. Was this not self-defence?"

A few do stand up, some crawl out from beneath tables.

"If anyone ever does attack Sally Kyle, I will put that person in the infirmary, unable to walk, unable to talk. This is your only warning. Now listen to me, all of you."

"Slytherin's don't mingle with other houses." I point at the boy who had said those words. "I believe the majority of those in the other houses hate him. The majority of the student body dislike us."

"The others will not approach us, not as long as we have people like these - " I gesture at those on the ground "- but why don't we change their perception of us?"

I pace a bit, and I have a feeling that my words are having an effect. "If we remain unfriendly, how can we expect to get along with the other houses? And why should we be the outcasts? Why shouldn't we make friends, laugh, have fun?"

"I have carefully observed the dynamics of this house these past few days. Those that you see on the floor are those who hold the power in the house. But they are the minority. Look at them! It is because of them that the rest of you are looked at with suspicion! They are selfish, greedy, unfriendly, cruel people. Are you all the same?"

I shake my head, then suddenly spin around, extending a forefinger. "You, you're our quidditch captain. I hear that our house plays dirty, cheats. And you wonder why we're the outcasts? Why don't we play rough _and_ fair?"

"This is a school my fellow Slytherins. Not a battlefield. Let us extend the hand of friendship to the others, be good, decent human beings ourselves. And you'll see the way we change, the way Slytherin changes. We'll remain cunning, we'll remain ambitious. But we'll be good people first."

I suddenly run out of words. A few seconds pass, then I bow my head.

"Thank you."

And to my great surprise, one person claps. Then another. And another.

The common room erupted in roars and whistles, tumultuous clapping rings out, and a few cries of 'Potter's rent the air. The people who attacked me today must have been very unpopular indeed. Even more surprising, is how they seem to not mind a teacher being knocked out with a knife. Perhaps Snape is not as well liked in his own house as I had thought. Whatever it may be, I know this...

There is a new king in Slytherin.

Me.

* * *

**(0)**

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**Thank you for reading, do leave me a review. Suggestions, advice, constructive criticism are all appreciated. And praise.**

**I will try to pick up the pace of the story, do bear with me. There won't be too much changing of POV's , for the most part, it will be Harry. Like the next chapter...**

**Next chapter, Harry.**

**Cheers,  
****Timefreak**


	6. Chapter Six - Harry

**Disclaimer - I own the Harry Potter Universe, and the Batman Universe... No. No I don't.**

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* * *

**_Emerald Eye Knight_**

**_Part One_**

**Chapter Six - Harry**

Blue eyes stare at me, no sign of the famous twinkle in them. Albus Dumbledore sighs and rubs his forehead, leaning back slightly in his throne.

His office is an interesting place. The room is circular, and quite beautiful. Portraits cover the walls, short shelves lie here and there, almost overflowing with books. Spindly-legged tables dot the room, whirring, silver contraptions on them. They make low, odd noises. A throne-like chair sits behind a massive claw-foot table.

It has been almost two hours since I dispatched fifteen students and one teacher in the Slytherin common room. I asked a prefect - the only one not to attack me - to go get a teacher, and inform the headmaster.

Less than ten minutes had passed, and Albus Dumbledore strode in.

I was sent to an empty classroom and told to wait there. An hour later, the same Prefect came and took me to the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore looks over the report in his hand.

"Ten concussions, six broken bones, severe bruising..." Dumbledore shook his head. "Five of them Prefects, and one teacher attacked as well..."

To my right, Professor Snape sits at the adjacent side of the table. His black eyes glitter with malice. He presses a small ice-pack to his forehead.

"I warned you Headmaster," I respond. "You dismissed my concerns. What reason can any of them have? Fifteen students, cornering a first year... And a teacher that attempts Legilimency on an eleven year old."

"You attacked them!" Snape almost yells. "Albus, you cannot possibly let him get away -"

"Severus." Dumbledore says the name pleasantly enough, but it is an obvious command. The Potions Master falls reluctantly silent. "Harry... You have attacked your fellow students viciously, and even knocked your head of house unconscious. This is a very serious matter, and would normally call for suspension, if not immediate expulsion."

I sense a 'but' coming...

"But, there are other factors to be considered here. The accounts I have received are mixed. While you did pull out your knife before you were attacked..."

"I did not fight until someone sent a spell from behind, at my back," I respond.

Dumbledore nods slowly. "Yes, I believe that is what happened. Although, a few of those involved are awake, and claim you attacked them first."

I stay silent. Dumbledore pauses, and seems to be coming to a decision.

"You will serve five hours of detention," Dumbledore says. "I believe the injuries the others have suffered are enough punishment for them."

"Headmaster," I say, and my voice is low. Ice. Jade. "I will not be serving any detentions. I was clearly protecting myself. Professor Snape here violated my mind, and I responded to that. I do wonder what impact it would have, should Andromeda Tonks or Amelia Bones learn about what happened tonight."

Dumbledore raises a hand to quell Snape before he bursts out. The blue eyes never leave my face.

"I believe this entire situation should be thrown down the drain," I continue. "Those who conspired against me have learned not do so. Slytherin house might change for the better - wouldn't you like that Headmaster? A house not associated with evil? A house that is accepted by the others, and all the students laugh and play together?"

Dumbledore closes his eyes. I count to ten, and he opens them again.

"Severus," he says. "You may leave us." The man-bat makes to protest, and Dumbledore turns his head to look at him.

Snape gives me a hate-filled glare, and leaves in a swish of robes. How..._ childish._

Dumbledore turns his attention back to me.

"None of the other teachers will know about what happened," the old man says. "We will, as you put it, 'throw it down the drain'. But I will not be so lenient again, Harry. What you did tonight was... extreme."

"If one hair on Sally's head is hurt," I whisper back, "tonight will pale in comparison to what I will do. I warned you Headmaster. I warn you again."

A long, tense silence stretches out between us.

Finally, Dumbledore nods. "You are dismissed."

I rise to my feet wordlessly, and make for the exit.

"And Harry..."

I stop and turn around.

"I am happy that you are trying to ease house rivalries. I fear sometimes, we take it too far."

_And yet you seem to do nothing to discourage it._ "Thank you."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore is no fool. He has his own agenda, he needs me for something. He cannot risk aggravating me too much.

Dumbledore understood that I didn't instigate the fight. However, I think, the headmaster truly believes I took things too far. He is a pacifist, an old man who has lived through two wars...

I say the password, and step into the common room.

Immediately, silence. All eyes turn to the entrance.

There are an unusual number of people up at this late hour. Many of them are simply awake to learn of how I have been dealt with. I see Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. Not one of those who attacked me are present.

I stand there, staring back at them from underneath a silver cloak, invisible. Whispers break out, people look at each other in confusion, then normal conversation resumes.

Under my father's cloak, I walk silently past the illusion leading to the dorm. Blaise Zabini is an awkward position at the foot of his bed, fast asleep. He must have been waiting for me.

I get ready to sleep, pick up a bit of parchment and slide beneath the covers. My fingers curl, and I lob the small ball at Zabini's head.

He is a very light sleeper. It is enough to wake him. Disoriented, he lifts his head and groans.

I lie back down and shut my eyes, and wait for my mother to die.

* * *

I ease myself away from the wall, away from the shadows, and fall into step besides Sally.

She beams at me. "Good Morning, noble Sir."

_Noble... _Am I? "Good morning, Princess."

Sally giggles. "You sleep well?"

"Yes."

Sally rolls her eyes, and I reach out to lightly tap her shoulder.

"I need to speak with you..." I motion towards the reception hall. "About what happened yesterday night."

And ten minutes later, a smirking Sally entered the Great Hall, Emerald Eyed Knight at her side.

The other houses didn't react too much. There were some looks - I am a legend after all. Slytherin house... Some of the fifteen I dispatched last night are eating. They send angry gazes my way. Everybody at that table is watching me and Sally, they speak to each other in hushed whispers.

I escort Sally to a seat opposite a yawning Tonks, and to the surprise of the Great Hall, plonk myself down in the seat besides her.

Sally raises one eyebrow, and I feel a small pang of frustration. It is a feat I have tried and tried to perform - unsuccessfully.

I smile. "Why not?"

Sally shrugs and reaches out for the bread basket.

Pretty much everyone is staring at us now. I have never sat down here before. I wonder if any Slytherin has ever sat at the Hufflepuff table... Perhaps, a long time ago.

Tonks finally manages to keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. "Oh, hey -" She yawns widely "- Harry! I wondered when you'd finally sit here. Susan!"

Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott have just entered the hall, and they come over to us.

"Good Morning," Hannah says brightly, sitting down besides me. Susan takes a seat besides Tonks.

"You owe me a galleon," Tonks tells Susan.

The redhead groans and glares at me. "You couldn't wait for just one more day?"

Sally's head snaps up. "You were betting on when Harry would sit with us?"

Susan puts a galleon on the table, and Tonks pockets it, looking very much like the cat that got the canary.

Sally stares, then shakes her head. "Never mind."

Breakfast was a pleasant affair. I am grateful to Susan and Hannah for acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. They didn't bat an eyelid to my sitting at the Hufflepuff table. We are left by ourselves, nobody sits near us.

The few teachers that were there looked at us curiously. Professor Flitwick seems happy about it. So does Professor McGonagall. Snape is thankfully, not present.

"So, we all have flying classes today," Susan announces. She looks at me and Sally. "Have any of you flown before?"

Sally shakes her head, and Tonks let's out a laugh.

"Harry's goes insane on a broom," the metamorphmagus says.

I decide to offer no comment to that.

"It should be fun," Sally says, reaching out to steal toast from my plate. I have no idea why. There is a whole stack of toast just in front of her.

Sally shoots me a sideways glance. "Don't do anything stupid, alright?"

I nod. Will they ever let me forget it? It was just that _one_ time, and I'd probably have not got injured if it was a proper broom.

On the way out, I motion surreptitiously with my head. Blaise Zabini nods in return, then goes back to his meal.

"Go on ahead," I tell the girls when we step out of the entrance hall. "I want to talk to somebody."

I have to wait for less than two minutes. Blaise Zabini walks out, and I fall into step besides him. Down in the dungeons, I lead him to a side, and into a round room, empty. There is no door, no furniture. A single slit along the wall allows sunshine in. Odd. Aren't we underground?

"Thank you for your warning," I tell him.

He seems nervous. "Sure..."

"Harry," I offer. "You can call me Harry."

Zabini smiles.

I go straight to the point. "So, what was the reaction last night, after the... Incident?"

"The majority of the house are scared of you, but they also like you."

"Because I stood up to those who bullied them." I state.

"Yes. "

I tilt my head. "Are you scared of me?"

Zabini licks his lips. "Uh... Should I be?"

_Yes._ "No. Not unless you're planning to do me any harm."

"After yesterday, nobody will dare to."

I doubt that. "Do you not wish to be seen openly associating with me?" I ask him.

He doesn't hesitate. "No. I don't mind. Harry..."

I wait, but he doesn't speak. "What?"

"Well... Did you mean what you said - yesterday night? About changing Slytherin?"

"Of course," I tell him. "Sit with someone from another house. Prove to them you aren't a dark wizard in the making. I find the house rivalries far too... Rigid. A certain level is required, to make competitions interesting. But it's being taken to extremes..."

I pause and take a few shallow breaths. "Those kids, Blaise - may I call you that?" He nods. "Those kids that attacked me, they had the power in the house. Everyone was too scared of them. The fear is still there. I intend to remove that fear."

"Many of them come from powerful families," Blaise points out.

I shrug. "It doesn't matter. Not to me. So tell me, why do you think Draco was absent last night?"

"I'm not sure," Blaise replies. "But I get the feeling he doesn't really hate you. Perhaps his father asked him to make friends with you?"

I almost chuckle. _Friends._

"Perhaps..." I abruptly gesture towards the exit. "Shall we?"

* * *

"There is no need to cause a scene," I say in a low voice, aware that everyone is watching the two of us.

Draco glares at me, his fingers clutching a red stone. A rememberall.

Neville Longbottom dropped it, when he took off early and crashed. Neville... A pudgy boy. Nervous. There is great tragedy in his life. His parents were tortured to insanity. They still live, unable to recognize their own son, locked away in a room at the magical hospital - .

His eyes meet mine, and we waged a short, silent war of wills. There was never any contest.

Draco looks away and sneers. "This is trash anyway." He threw it at a Gryffindor - Ron Weasley. I have caught the redhead looking my way more than once. Perhaps he wishes to approach me? To be my friend?

It is nearly fifteen minutes before the class resumes. We all clamber on our brooms again, and Madam Hooch once again walks around, correcting our grips.

"Move your left hand lower," I tell the dark-skinned Gryffindor boy besides me.

He stares at me oddly, then complies, just as Madam Hooch walks over to us.

"Perfect," she compliments, and goes further down the line.

"Uhh.. thanks," the boy says. Then, almost as an afterthought. "I'm Dean Thomas."

I nod, not looking at him. I am eager to be in the sky, soaring through the air.

"Harry," I reply. "Harry Potter."

Madam Hooch separates us into groups of four, and helps each group into the air individually. Makes a lot more sense than having everyone kick off at the same time. This way she can focus, and give instruction where required.

I am in the second group. The whistle blows, and I carefully kick off, moving up through the air a few feet.

"If you really feel ready, you can fly around a bit," the teacher tells us.

I angle the broom upwards, and it responds. I lean forward slightly, and the speed increases.

It is..._ Liberating._

A shout of joy almost escapes me as I soar into the cloudy sky. Air whistles in my ears, my hair dances about wildly. My clothes ripple out behind me.

I dive, I soar. I spiral. I _am_ freedom. I wish I could fly without a broom. That would be even more wonderful.

I don't go too fast, but I am faster than anyone else on the field. Many have stopped flying, and are now watching me instead... Nothing new there.

A very short forty-five minutes later, my feet touch solid ground again. I jump off my broom, and stumble a bit. It takes me a few steps to get used to walking again.

As we handed our brooms back, stacking them into a pile by Madam Hooch, she speaks to me.

"Your father was an excellent flier, " she says. "He would be proud."

Would he? I wouldn't know.

"Thank you," I say, and it is enough.

* * *

**THE BOY-WHO-LIVED, WHO IS HE?**

By Rita Skeeter

_Harry James Potter is quite possibly, the most famous person in the magical world today. His name is legend, the only person to have ever survived a killing curse - and he was only a baby._

_But what do we really know of him? There has been no news of Harry Potter ever since that Halloween night. Nobody knows where he has been all these years. Albus Dumbledore assured the Wizengamot that Harry Potter was at a safe place, living with distant muggle relatives._

_Harry Potter is now eleven years old, and is attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_The Boy-Who-Lived is a symbol of light, and is a Potter. Imagine the surprise, when Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin!_

_But that is not all, dear readers. Only a few days later, I received startling news from Hogwarts. Sources that would prefer not to be names suggested that Harry Potter had attacked at least ten fellow students and even one teacher, sending all of them to the hospital wing! Furthermore, he was not issued any sort of punishment for his supposed actions!_

_The reports filtering in about the Boy-Who-Lived are very clear about one thing. Harry Potter is an enigma. He is a quiet boy, who sticks to himself, and seems to have only one friend - a muggleborn named Sally Kyle, who is a Hufflepuff. I could find no records about her either._

_This reporter was intrigued. She sought to uncover more about his past, and uncovered some very peculiar facts indeed!_

_Vernon and Petunia Dursley were a couple that lived in Surrey, along with their son Dudley. The chances that Harry Potter grew up with this family is very high._

_But tragedy struck the family, when young Harry was only seven years old. Vernon Dursley was found in a pond, murdered. Petunia Dursley was sent to a home, almost insane, and poor young Dudley was sent to boarding school. What happened of Harry Potter?_

_That, dear readers, is the question. Where has he been these past years? How can an eleven year old fight and defeat ten other students, not to mention a Hogwarts Professor? And if this has happened, why was it unpunished? Are our children truly safe at Hogwarts, if this sort of incident can occur?_

_This reporter would like to know._

_More on page 3_

"Interesting," I murmur, folding the paper and handing it back to Susan.

"I don't believe it," Susan says supportively. "Skeeter is a hag."

I smile at her, and offer no comment. Tonks shifts nervously. She knows I can deal with fifteen students. She knows I can fight a teacher. She's probably wondering if it is true.

"Maybe you could ask mom to pay this reporter a visit," Sally suggests in a low voice, careful not to be overheard.

I grin at that. I doubt even magical wards could keep Selina from getting into this woman's house, and stealing anything and everything. She doesn't steal anymore, but this... This would be payback. A fact finding mission, looking for any dirt on Rita Skeeter.

"Maybe," I say. I glance across the hall at Zabini, who shrugs and jerks his head towards the top end of the Slytherin table. All the blood-purists sit there, those who tried to attack me.

Yes, Blaise is probably right. They must have complained to their daddies, who went to this reporter and provided her with a juicy story.

I glance down at the almost unintelligible note in my hand. The handwriting is horrible. The note is from Hagrid, the Gamekeeper. Keeper of Keys. Groundsman.

He requests that I drop by his hut sometime this Saturday morning, have tea and cakes. He says I can get any friends of mine along. The note was given to me by a Ravenclaw last night.  
I wonder if Hagrid still wants to meet me, after reading today's newspaper.

I show the note to Sally. She reads it over and shrugs, then passes it along to Tonks.

Tonks reads it and frowns. "Hagrid used to know your parents really well, maybe he just wants to get to know you... You were going to help me train Harry, remember?" Tonks wants to become an Auror. I can help her get there, and be one of the best.

I nod. "Yes..."

"Let's go to Hagrid's hut," suggests Sally. "And you guys can beat each other up later this evening."

My turn to frown. "There are quidditch tryouts this evening..."

"First years aren't allowed brooms," Tonks reminds me. "And first years never get into the team. Nobody even tries out."

I shake my head. "That doesn't mean I can't try. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend tomorrow," Tonks replies. "I'm going into the town with my friends."

_Huh._

"So..." Sally pauses. "Why don't we go to Hagrid's, Harry can go for tryouts this evening, and Tonks - you go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. You guys can train some other day, maybe Monday night?"

Tonks was unhappy with the arrangment, but agreed. That girl really enjoys our sessions... Probably because I don't push her to the point of near death. I doubt she'd have enjoyed Bane's training.

We asked Susan and Hannah to come as well, and they agreed.

I walk over to the Slytherin table, and ask Blaise if he wants to come along. He politely declines, and suggests taking Draco instead.

I grin at that. Draco has been making friendly overtures.

And so to Hagrid's hut we go. The path is green and beautiful. The sky above us is full of fluffy little clouds. The sun shines brightly, yet I don't feel hot. It's a perfect day, pleasant.

The girls jabber away as we walk, and I nod my head every now and then, not paying any real attention.

Hagrid's hut isn't all that large - for someone his size. A small garden of sorts is at the side - I think he's growing pumpkins. A tall scarecrow grins eerily at us, and I smile back.

Tonks raps the door smartly.

Loud barking breaks out from within the hut, and there is the sound of furniture being displaced. Sally and Tonks grin as what sounds like pots and pans tumble to the floor. Susan and Hannah wince in sympathy.

"DOWN FANG!"

It takes Hagrid only a few seconds to restrain 'Fang', the barking stops. A few more seconds pass - he is probably tidying up a bit.

Then the door swings open, and Hagrid peers out at us.

He doesn't look all that pleased to see me. Not unhappy, just... Nervous? I bet if I was in Gryffindor he would have asked me to tea the first evening.

I smile and hold up the note he had written for me - the invitation.

"Oh, yes - er, uh..." Hagrid pauses, then beams from under the bushy beard. "Come in, all of yeh." He moves back, and an enormous boarhound jumps out. I almost draw my knife in reflex. This must be Fang.

"Tha's Fang," Hagrid grunts. "You stay out now," he tells the dog sternly. Fang doesn't seem to mind, and runs away.

It is a tight squeeze in Hagrid's cabin. The windows are open, and sunlight streams through, lighting up the hut. A massive bed is at the far corner, a patchwork quilt draped over it. Susan, Hannah and Tonks sit on it.

Pheasants are hanging from the ceiling. A fireplace crackled merrily, a copper kettle left on it. I can hear the water boiling inside it.

The rest of us sit on wooden chairs that surround a wooden table.

As he hastily picks up a used teacup, he notices today's Daily Prophet lying on the table, the front page article about me face-up.

He colours a bit, and shuffles around, trying to be discreet about removing it from sight. He only manages to draw more attention.

We all look at him. He grins weakly, and then groans.

"Ah crap..." He tosses the newspaper in the corner, and moves over to check on the kettle. He picks it up and brings it over.

"Never trust Rita Skeeter," he offers. "Woman's always spinning tales, tha's all."

I nod. "Thank you."

A few tense moments pass, then Hagrid sighs heavily, and sits down on the last chair. It groans, and for a moment I think it might break. It doesn't.

"I last saw you when yeh was jus' a baby... It was a bad night, Harry." I can see tears welling up in Hagrid's eyes, and I think they're genuine. "Poor Lily an' James..." He chokes back a sob, and Sally flashes me a concerned look, that I ignore. Hagrid is talking about that Halloween. The night I became an orphan. I do not like my childhood being discussed. Anything that happened over two years back is best left for dead. Not forgotten though. Or forgiven.

"I took yeh to Dumbledore ya know - great wizard, Albus Dumbledore. Greatest wizard alive."

I suppress a dry chuckle, and incline my head. "I'm sure he is."

"An' then, yeh were put in Slytherin... There hasn't been many evil witches or wizards that weren't from Slytherin, an' I put off meeting yeh..." Hagrid gazes into my eyes, and he lasts all of two seconds before turning away. "Dumbledore showed me what a fool I was bein'... Yeh yer father's son Harry, and he was a fine man, James was. I'm... I'm sorry."

I do not detect any lie in his words. It is easy to piece together Hagrid's personality. Loyal to a fault, gentle and kind despite his size, and a large, good heart. Probably a good man.

Why would Dumbledore say anything to Hagrid though?

"It's alright," I say finally. "The prejudice in the magical world does run deep..."

Hagrid blushes in embarrassment, and stands up. He moves fairly quickly, and very soon, all of us are sitting and sipping tea. It's quite good.

Hagrid's face suddenly brightens up. "I have cakes, made 'em yesterday. Tonks! Jus' under there - yes, take one."

I almost grin. Tonks looks most unhappy about having to eat one of Hagrid's cakes, and yet I know she doesn't want to make him feel bad. She smiles, grimaced, then smiles and takes the smallest piece she can find.

"Oh, you don't need to watch your figure Tonks," Sally pipes up. She has noticed Tonks reaction. "Take a bigger piece!"

Hagrid seems to like that very much, and personally picks out a very, very large piece and hands it to Tonks. She makes to put the first piece back, and Hagrid refuses.

"It's alrigh', Yeh can eat both."

Tonks' face is quite amusing. Sally let out a girlish giggle, and Susan snorts. The corner of my mouth twitches.

As soon as Hagrid turns, Tonks glares at Sally, her eyes promising revenge at some future date.

We each take a piece. I am curious to know why Tonks seemed averse to taking the cake... And I find out when I bite it.

Rock Cakes would be an apt name. The cake gets stuck to both my teeth - upper and lower, jamming them together. I blink once, twice. Hagrid is watching me.

"You like the taste Harry?" Tonks asks me.

I look at Hagrid, and am reminded of a puppy dog. Which is strange when you consider the man's impressive build.

A supreme effort, and I manage to yank my teeth free. "Yes," I say from around the rock. "Quite nice."

Hagrid beams. "Hav' another!"

* * *

I am sitting in the stands of the Quidditch ground. The ground itself is fairly large, covered with grass. Steep stands rise up around the stadium - four blocks of stands. One for each house, I suppose.

Three hoops are at each end of the pitch. I know the rules of the game. Tonks has explained them to me.

Marcus Flint looks like a real bully. He has large teeth, shifty grey eyes, coarse black hair, and is impressively buffed. But he wasn't among those that attacked me. There are only a few newcomers, here to try their luck. There are two vacant slots - a chaser and beater. From what I've heard, the current seeker isn't very good either.

It is a strange feeling, this... _Excitement. _I am_ excited_ about this.

I stride across the grass and everybody turns around to look at me. I stare back, and incline my head at Flint.

"First years aren't allowed their own brooms," I say, breaking the strained silence. The two beaters and the keeper - three of them are among those that attacked me. "But I can always try out."

Flint spends a few moments thinking about it. The keeper begins to protest, but Flint shushes him with a look. "There isn't anything in the rules... He can try out. You probably won't get a place Potter."

I say nothing. Actions speak louder than words. Perhaps I'll get a spot... Perhaps I won't. I don't exactly have a lot of experience.

There is a pile of some of the best school brooms. All the others have their own brooms. I simply put my hand over a broom that lies slightly apart from the rest. It doesn't look too damaged, and I take that as a good sign. There are deep gashes on the handle, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem... Some of the other brooms are missing a few tail twigs.

"Up," I say, and the broom jumps to my hand.

"Alright, new people, form up here," Flint orders, gesturing to his right.

"What position you want to tryout for?" Flint asks.

There is no need to ask. The boy is wearing gloves... Surely that means -

"Goalkeeper."

"Alexus?" Flint asks. The other boy is one of the upper years, and flint knows him. They may even be dormates.

"Chaser or seeker," Alexus replies.

"Potter?"

"Chaser or seeker," I reply. Alexus frowns at me, but doesn't say anything. I remember his face - he was one of those that clapped rather loudly the other night.

"Everybody up in the air," Flint commands. "Keepers, to that end. Chasers, line up!"

Each keeper gets to try and save from every chaser.

My turn comes, I am called up second. Flint tosses me the Quaffle - a red football of sorts. I rise upwards to collect it. Easy.

I bend forward, and am shooting over the grass, pressed low over the broom... The goals loom up.

I fake towards the right, dive left, and sling the quaffle the other way. The ball is not very heavy - it is quite light. It has to be, for it to be thrown across yards and yards.

It is quite satisfying to watch. The quaffle flies through the right hoop, just bouncing off the inside of the rim.

Flint is looking at me differently now.

The other chasers did well enough. Alexus is a very good flier. He has a classy looking broom though - perhaps I am the better flier.

Time for my second shot - against the original keeper.

Again, the pass to me is a bit wayward, and I have to swoop to the right to claim the Quaffle. I arrow towards the goal, and fake left, pause for a second, shoot left.

The keeper just about manages to get a glove to it, almost unseating himself. The Quaffle hits the rim, but bounces up, and over. Still, I can tell that Flint is impressed.

Next we go through a few flying exercises, laps around the pitch at top speed, playing follow the leader. Easy enough. Terrence Higgs, the current seeker isn't too good a flier. He seems decent though, and he has more experience than me. Alexus... He is a good flier. And again, he has so much more experience than me.

We streak across the field, and back. A few invigorating minutes later, Flint calls for a stop.

A practice snitch is released. Me, Terrence and Alexus chase it. The practice snitch is an electric blue, and pulses light, so that it can be seen. It moves very erratically.

Higgs uses his much bigger body to try and knock me off course. I swerve away, and Alexus pulls ahead. My broom is very slow. Will I be able to catch up, and avoid being flattened by the two bigger boys? No. Probably not.

I dive, and fly below the others chasing the snitch. It seems to be moving in a specific direction, for ll its sudden twists and turns. I arrow forward... And just miss the snitch as it shoots down suddenly. But I am back in contention now, and am a couple of feet ahead of Alexus. He catches up though, and so does Higgs. Their brooms are remarkable fast.

I stretch my arm out, and Higgs smacks into the back of my broom. The snitch dives down, we follow, Higgs now in the lead. A second later, it is in his grasp.

Flint calls everyone back down, and we land, surrounding him.  
He asks everybody, except me and Alexus to leave. Apparently Flint will announce the team later.

"Okay you two," says Flint, once the rest are out of sight. "Up in the air."

Flint throws the Quaffle at all sorts of angles, and we have to catch them. I get eleven out of fifteen. Alexus manages thirteen.

Alexus is dismissed too, and then it's just me and Flint.

"I think you're a natural Potter. Was that your second time on a broom?"

"Close." I reply.

"If you had a proper broom... Even if I do select you Potter, you can't fly on a school broom."

"I will purchase a broom," I reply. "And you can keep it for me."

Flint frowns, then nods. "Look Potter.." he hesitates, and seems lost for words.

"You worry for your position in Slytherin, if you support me." I say. "You don't need to be. You choose the best players, that's your job. If the team wins, you'll be a hero. Besides, like I said, the people who attacked me, they're the minority. You may consider yourself under my protection if you like. Don't worry about Snape... I'll talk to the Headmaster if I have to. Nobody will give you any trouble, a couple of glares maybe."

Flint considers this for several seconds. "You have the right build and skills, you'd be best as a seeker. You're too light, you couldn't play Chaser and fit in with our tactics. Terrence is good, but I think you're better."

He pauses, but I remain silent.

"Our first match is against Gryffindor. I'm naming you as seeker, with Higgs as reserve. You catch the snitch, and you'll be the hero of the house. You fail, and you get chucked off the team. Understood?"

I nod.

"Okay then Potter. You're the new seeker."

* * *

**The pace will pick up now, oh yes it will...**

**Thanks for reading, and do leave a review.**

**Cheers,**  
**Timefreak**


	7. Chapter Seven - Halloween

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Harry Potter, nor the Batman universe. I wish I did. **

**This chapter is really short, just about 4000 words. Aplogies for the chapter length, but I didn't want to join anything else with Halloween. The POV's in this chapter are Sally, Harry, and Hermione - in that order.**

* * *

**(0)**

* * *

_**Emerald Eye Knight**_

_**Part One **_

_**Chapter Seven - Halloween**_

**Sally**

Time has flown here at Hogwarts. It is Halloween today, I have already been here for two months.

I like Hogwarts. The castle is huge, old, and so much fun to explore. My dorm mates are cool, me and Hannah have become best friends. And Susan was already Hannah's best friend... So we've kind of become a group of three.  
Or five, when Justin and Harry join in.

Harry... He seems to be doing quite well. Blaise Zabini and Harry seem to get along well. I often see Draco Malfoy with them too.

He still spends most of his time with me though - or alone. Harry walks around the school most nights, after sleeping the few hours that he does. Even with the nap he takes during the day, it's strange how he functions on so little sleep.

There have been no more incidents, no more fights, since Harry took on sixteen bullies and won. Yes, sixteen. Snape counts. The Potions Professor is almost civil towards me, yet it is obvious he doesn't want to be that way. Harry probably threatened him or Dumbledore, and warned Snape to be nice to me. I worry sometimes about the way Harry has attached himself to Selina and me.

Harry got himself on the quidditch team. He confessed that he felt a strange excitement about it. It's at moments like these... He rarely opens up and says anything like that, unless we ask. But when he does, it can get hard not to pity him, to feel sick inside on his behalf. Feeling excitement like that is something so rare for him - that is sad.

There were no negative consequences from Harry making the team. The other houses still don't know, so there's been no reaction there. But from within Slytherin house, there haven't been any problems. The old seeker isn't a bad guy, and actually congratulated Harry. But Harry did tell me his captain was under a bit of pressure from the influential purebloods. Nothing out of hand however - it all depends on how well he performs in his first match.

Owls hoot loudly as they fly in through the rafters. I look for Hedwig among them, but she isn't there. The only person we write to is Selina, and I say 'we', because Hedwig sort of belongs to both me and Harry now.

We normally sit at the Hufflepuff table for meals, except breakfast, which we eat at the Slytherin table. The first time I sat there, there were plenty of unfriendly eyes. Harry cracked his knuckles, and no one was looking my way anymore. They are terrified of what he can do.

Right now though, we are sitting at the Gryffindor table. Hermione Granger is a muggleborn that I've become friends with. We're not a very good friends though - Hermione tends to be a bit bossy, and a bit of a know-it-all. We don't have many classes together either.

Padma Patil is from Ravenclaw. I've become friends with her as well. I sit at the Ravenclaw table sometimes, with her.

The first week, people would stare, but its become normal now. The first years mix together. Not too much, for the most part we stick to our house, but we do have other friends, and study together sometimes.

Even the Slytherins. The boys stick to themselves with the exception of Harry and Blaise. But the girls... I've made friends with Tracey Davis. She's quite friendly. What's the right word...? Bubbly.

Harry is even quieter than usual this morning. He moves a bit of salad around on his plate, but isn't eating much.

Harry loathes this day. Halloween.

We are sitting at one end of the Gryffindor table. None of us are expecting any mail, so its a surprise when four owls, carrying a long slim package flutter down to land among us.

I catch a flash of emotion in the emerald eye. Harry eyes the owls, and a small sigh escapes his lips. He reaches forward, and carefully unties the parcel.

"What is it?" Hannah asks.

Harry doesn't reply, and Hannah huffs and goes back to her cereal.

Harry eats quickly now, and a minute later, his plate is empty. His face is a blank mask, but now and then, a violent spasm of emotion sparks in his green eye.

"What is it?" I ask softly. I probably shouldn't ask, but I'm curious about what he's got.

"A broom," Harry replies, his voice as low as mine. "I was... Eager, to get my own broom. But now, I cannot find it in me to care."

I don't understand this fully. On one hand, Harry cares for his parents. He even told me that. They loved him, they died before harm could befall him. He hears his mom screaming almost every night, he can hear the defiance, the raw emotion, the love in her screams. On the other hand, he doesn't keep any photos. Andromeda had got one for him. Harry looked at it long and hard. He didn't move for several minutes, his eyes fixed on the couple in the picture.

It was a beautiful picture. James Potter, tall and handsome, with messy black hair and hazel eyes behind round framed spectacles. His arm around Lily Potter, a breathtakingly beautiful woman. She had red hair, and amazing, sparkling green eyes.

A long time later, Harry folded the photo and pocketed it. A week later, we were at the seaside. I saw Harry remove that photo from his shorts pocket, and place it gently in the water, never looking at it.

Andromeda saw it too, all of us did. She didn't offer another picture. She did offer to take him to Godric's Hollow. Harry's parents are buried there. Harry smiled emptily, and shook his head.

Harry Potter... Rita Skeeter was right about one thing. Harry Potter is an enigma. Even Selina, even I... We can't say we really,_ really_ know Harry Potter.

The doors to the Great Hall swing open, and Hagrid staggers in. He is holding two enormous Halloween pumpkins, one in each massive hand.

A cheer breaks out down the table, and very soon almost everyone is whooping, clapping and whistling.

Dumbledore doesn't turn up too often for meals, but he's here now. He smiles widely and flicks his wand. Besides him, so does Professor Flitwick.

Confetti rains down upon us, disappearing as soon as they touch a solid surface.

Half a minute later, Dumbledore let's out a few bangs, and gets everyone to quiet down.

I turn to Harry, and blink. Harry is no longer there.

* * *

**Harry**

I toss the broomstick under the bed. A Nimbus Two Thousand, the finest broom in the market.

I put on my invisiblity cloak, and leave the dorm. People will be returning from breakfast now. I left early.

I walk through the corridors, climb stairs, walk past tapestries. I know my way around the school now, better than most. I roam the school at night, when I find it hard to sleep. Which happens fairly often.

I push open a rickety wooden door, and step out into fresh air. I am at the top of a tower, one rarely ever used. I haven't even seen Filch come up here.

The tower top is a square, and in a corner, lie three kites. One red, one green, one blue. I asked Selina to send them, and she did. Sally was very happy.

There is a light breeze blowing, scattering clouds across the sky. Perfect for flying a kite. Before too long, the blue kite is flying up in the air, swaying in the wind. I find it strangely relaxing.

_Halloween._

Thrice damned Halloween.

I hate Halloween.

My parents died on Halloween night. My biological parents were killed that night. They died before they would let me be hurt. They died for me.

It means a lot to me. People did exist, people who cared for me... _Loved_ me, so much that they would give up their lives for me. I know without a shadow of doubt that there were two people, who cared for me, loved me.  
Sally and Selina - I know they care for me, but sometimes, I still feel like they could turn away... They could. Sally and Selina could easily abandon me. But they won't. I hope not.  
It is stupid of me to think that way. Have they ever given me reason to doubt them?

A madman, a Dark Lord said two easy words. There was a flash of green and then my parents died. I hope it was painless.

Andromeda once gave me a picture. I felt... It was hard to breathe. Such a strong whirlwind of emotions rose within me... It was uncomfortable. I do not like feeling like that, like a grain of sand tossed around in a tornado.

The photo now lies somewhere in the Atlantic. I do not want it, and yet I do... It is confusing.  
I cannot even understand myself.

I know what Selina would say. It's natural to feel conflicted, to be submerged in all sorts of emotions...

One day, one of these years, I will go to their grave. I will place flowers. I will leave.  
Maybe, maybe I will cry? Perhaps.

Tonight, ten years ago, everything went downhill. Tonight changed my life.

Minutes later, Sally the door opens and steps out.

"Hi there," she says.

I nod in reply, and begin to reel my kite in.

Silently, Sally offers me a cigarette. Selina's warnings go through my mind, but I cannot bring myself to care. I take it, and accept a lighter as well.

I inhale deeply. The smoke fills my lung, and I puff out, almost blowing out a perfect circle.

_"Talk Harry, you can't bottle everything inside of you."_ Why do I suddenly miss Selina so much?

"Halloween," I say slowly.

Sally blows out, and nods. "Yeah, Halloween."

"My parents, they died this night."

"They died for you. Because they loved you."

"They did," I agree. "But there's more..."

Sally jumps up onto the ledge, and pats the space next to her. I hesitate, then climb up myself.

"Halloween is a night for freaks you know," I say. This is all in the past, yet why do I feel these memories as raw wounds? I always _feel _more on Halloween.

For a few seconds, Sally doesn't say anything. Then she understands, and I hear a sharp intake of breath.

"_Them_?" She asks.

I chuckle mirthlessly. "Yes, Sally. You can say their names, I don't care."

She makes a face. "So you say... Every year?"

I nod. The Dursleys were fond of specific days. Specific days which I began to resent, days which were red with my own blood.

My birthday for one. That was the worst. Then Halloween. A special day, for special people... I chuckly dryly again, and Sally's lips twist.

"Do you... Do you want to talk?" Sally asks.

I smile at her. Genuinely.

She is only eleven years old. A bit mature, but only a small girl. And while she's been through rough times as well, there are some things which she shouldn't have to hear.

I look away and shake my head. "No."

"Okay then," she says.

And strangely, I do feel okay.

* * *

The Halloween feast. I almost don't go. I walk to what has now become my usual spot at the Hufflepuff table.

"Wotcher Harry!" Tonks says brightly.

I stretch my lips out in a smile, and nod at her. "Miss Tonks."

"Hey Harry," Susan says, just as brightly. Hannah beams as well. Everybody is looking forward to the feast. There will be heaps and heaps of food... Ah, there we are.

Food appears magically on the silver crockery. There are more dishes than I can count.

"Someone's been in a mood all day," Susan whispers to Tonks, nodding subtly at me. I pretend I did not hear.

Tonks whispers something back, so low I almost miss it.

"So would you if you're parents had died tonight," she says. Susan blushes and decided to keep quiet.

I glance at the empty seat next to me, then look back up at Tonks. "Where is Sally?"

"I'm not sure," Hannah says, frowning. "She was with us, and then she told me she'd come along."

"Where were you?" I ask.

"Near the bathrooms, just off Charms. She probably went in there."

I nod. I have a very bad feeling about this... Halloween is a cursed day, a cursed night.

Last Halloween, one of Sally's old contacts stumbled upon her. He was... Violent. I didn't react too well with someone threatening her with a gun. He even got off two wayward shots - Selina later told me he was drunk. One just missed Sally, the other went into the ceiling.

I killed him, without a second's hesitation. It wasn't hard. He never saw the Jade coming his way, green blade reflecting sparkling sunlight...

The feeling, the sixth sense of impeding disaster grows stronger. I don't touch the food, leaning back and waiting for something to happen.

Wham!

The doors burst open, and Professor Quirrel staggers in. He stumbles all the way to the staff table, and collapses against it.

"Troll," he almost yells. "Troll in the dungeon. Thought you should know." Message given, he falls, fainting. Wait a bit... You don't fall that way - he's faking it.

Pandemonium. Students scream, everybody is talking at once.

Dumbledore rises to his feet and let's out a few massive bangs from the end of his wand.

The old man magically enhances his voice, and shouts above the din, telling each house to return to their common rooms.  
Really, does he not have any common sense?

"Tonks," I say sharply, getting the girl's attention. "Suggest that everyone stays here, who knows how far the troll may have wandered."

She nods and moves towards the front, where the teachers are still seated. Such a slow response...

I have reached the Slytherin table. "Flint," I call out, and the quidditch captain looks at me. "The troll is probably in the dungeon, don't let anybody go down there. Stay here."

Flint frowns at being given orders, but understands, and hollers out to get a prefect's attention.

Amongst all the shouting and general chaos, nobody notices when I cover myself with the invisibility cloak, and slip out of the hall.

I dash through the corridors, tear upstairs and downstairs. I pass three sets of bathrooms.

I find Sally in the fourth. And Hermione Granger.

And the troll.

* * *

**Hermione Granger**

"Hello? Anyone in there?"

"Go away," I sniffle.

"Hermione?" The voice sounds surprised. It's very familiar... Sally!

"Sally?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yes, it's me. What are you - never mind, open the door."

Sally is always nice to me, and doesn't tease me about being a bookworm. I open the door, and walk out, making straight for the sink.

"What happened?" Sally wants to know.

"Ron Weasley," I say, and my voice almost breaks. Then I feel anger. "I was only trying to help him with the levitation spell! It's Win-_Gar_-Dium, you have to draw out the _Gar_!"

Sally grins. "Some boys can be dumb. We'll prank him if you want. We can sneak out at night and figure out something."

"What?! No, we can't do that!" I stare at her incredulously. Did she really mean that? "We'll be in so much trouble if we are caught! And I don't want to be mean like him, even if he was mean to me first."

Sally leans against the sink besides me. "You've been in here since we had Charms, haven't you? We should probably leave now. The Halloween feast begins soon."

"I don't want to," I say miserably, opening the tap. Water gushed out, and I splash some on my face, clearing the tear tracks.

"Oh come on Hermione," Sally urges. "I'm sure he didn't really mean it."

"He said I didn't have any friends..." I sniffle.

"Hey, you have me," Sally responds, punching my shoulder lightly.

I splash some more water on my face, and take my time to get myself together. Sally waits patiently, and when I'm finally done, I smile gratefully at her.

"Thank you. Sally," I say. She didn't tease me, or ridicule me.

"Hey," Sally smiles back. "What are friends for? When I'm crying in a bathroom somewhere, you can come and get me."

I chuckle-sob, and Sally laughs.

"That's if Harry doesn't find you first," I reply. Instantly Sally looks away, the laughter dying from her face. She's still smiling though.

"Yeah," she says. "You're right there."

"He seems sweet," I offer.

Sally chokes, and coughs for a bit. "_Sweet?_" She echoes.

I frown. "Yes... He even pulls out your chair for you sometimes. And he never argues, he's always polite, even if a bit... Aloof?"

Sally rolls her eyes. "I know what that word means. I have to - Harry has really good vocabulary. It rubs off on me."

I am surprised at that, and turn to examine my face one last time.

"Sally?" I ask. "What's that smell?"

"I don't know," she replies, "but we should... Probably go." Her voice becomes strangled at those last words.

A loud cracking sound, and the heavy bathroom door flies off to land somewhere to the side. I scream and turn around, and scream some more.

A monster! A huge, tall, hulking monster! It has a humanoid shape, and mottled grey skin, long arms, and a hunched back. A massive club drags along the ground, because its arms are so long.

All coherent thought leaves my mind, and I scream again.

My head is violently jerked to a side, as Sally slaps me hard.

She grabs my shoulders and shakes me. "Focus, Hermione! Focus!"

I point at the monster, and clutch her tightly with my other hand.

"Shut up," she screams, and it finally gets through to me.

"You need to run, okay? Wait for it to come closer, I'll distract it."

I cannot form proper words to answer her. My heart is hammering loudly in my chest, and my stomach feels like a pit of snakes.

"Harry will be here soon," Sally says, and she says it confidently.

The troll advances into the bathroom, its club swinging idly. It smashes in a stall, and rips up sinks.

I scream, and bend over, shielding my face from the flying debris. Sally shoves me roughly, pushing me back.

The troll shuffles forward. It is halfway towards us now, small heady eyes fixed on me and Sally.

"You need to run, go from it's left. Run, and don't look back," Sally instructs, inching away from me. I try to grab her, but she slips away.

Sally raises one hand, and slips her other hand into her robes. She crouches down low.

Her arm whips forward, signalling to me that I should run, but my feet don't respond. "NOW!" Sally shouts, and dashes forward - only to pull up short.

I blink, and there he is. Harry Potter seems to appear like magic. Blood flows freely from behind of the troll's leg, and runs down onto the floor. The monster staggers, it's leg weakened considerably.

Harry does an incredible back-flip, and _jumps_. He jumps as the troll turns around, bellowing in pain, its massive club caving in another stall.

Harry Potter _climbs_ the troll, and almost blurs. He jumps off the troll's shoulders, and seems to hang there for a second, suspended in midair, with his arms going around the troll's neck.

Then he falls to the ground, sinking down to one knee. I distractedly note that bending has absorbed the impact of falling from that height, and Harry rises to his feet.

Complete silence, for all of a second. Then the troll's head _moves_, and slides off completely.

I stare, mouth open, at the headless troll. The beheaded body stands straight, as if the body has not yet realized it is dead. Then it pitches backward, and collapses with a loud smack. The head has disappeared in the rubble, just around the troll.

The image of Harry Potter will forever be burned into my mind.

Harry James Potter. He stands there, back straight, chin up. A long, green knife is in each hand, both dripping blackish-red troll blood. He doesn't have a drop of blood on his clothes - his very muggle clothes. Harry's Hogwarts robes are nowhere in sight.

His face... Harry's face is completely blank. There is no expression at all. His emerald eye regards me with apathy, the grey eye is dead, like it always seems to be.

Then it hits me, just how close I was to being troll-food. Harry Potter has just saved my life.

I rush forward to thank my savior, but he shifts subtly, and I stop abruptly. Something about him screams at me not to approach him, to not throw my arms around him.

He seems different... Untouchable.

And then I realize what he has just done. Harry Potter has just beheaded a troll. Two bloody green knives are in his hands. I catch sight of the gruesome, decapitated head, and the world spins around me.

My knees feel weak, and I sink to the floor. When I look back up, Harry's knives have disappeared, and instead, his arms are held out.

Sally Kyle hugs him, and I feel like an intruder, like I am watching something private.

I see Harry's mouth move, but he is speaking too softly for me to hear.

Sally releases Harry, and comes over to me. She helps me to my feet, and almost drags me out of the bathroom.

I let myself by let out, feeling quite numb. My eyes are fixed on the headless troll.  
I try to swivel my neck to see it as we walk past, but Sally yanks me forward.

"Don't look," she commands.

Harry has disappeared. Sally takes a left, and we round the corner just as I hear voices behind us.

A distinctly Scottish accent is heard above all the other comments.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Professor McGonagall swearing._ Professor McGonagall_ just swore.

We are running away from a headless troll, and teachers who might be able to track us down, and find out we were there.

Professor McGonagall _swore._

I do the only logical thing.

I faint.

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**Thanks for reading. Do let me know what you thought of it.**

**Cheers,**  
**Timefreak**


	8. Chapter Eight - Harry

**Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or the Batman universe.**

**Again, a rather short chapter. I do believe however, this is going to be the norm now. Real life beckons, ya'know?**

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_**Emerald Eye Knight**_

_**Part One**_

**Chapter Eight - Harry**

"You have my condolences," I say, softly.

Neville looks up, startled. "W-wh-why?"

I look up at the clear blue sky, and then across the placid waters of the Black Lake. It is cold today. It will be cold tomorrow. Winter has arrived.

"We are not so unlike," I say in the same tone. "You and me... Do you visit them?"

"Them?" He squeaks.

I repress a sigh. "I'm not going to eat you Neville... Yes, them. Your parents."

A flicker of anger crosses his face, then his head falls forward and he looks away.

"Every Christmas," he says. "Before Hogwarts, maybe seven or eight times a year, sometimes every month."

"Do you-" I hesitate. "Do you_ want_ to go? Do you really_ want_ to go every Christmas?"

He gives me a puzzled look. "Of course."

"Do you not feel - " I struggle to find the right words. "What's the point, when you never really knew them?"

Neville blinks. "They're my parents," he said as if it explained everything. And in a way, it did. "I've been visiting them forever..." He shrugs.

I nod. "Thank you... And, I'm sorry."

Neville gives me a wide, innocent look. "Why?"

"I asked you some very personal questions. It can be hard to talk about them... To think about them..." _I would know._

Neville seems to be looking at me bit differently now. "You're welcome."

I turn around, and want to walk away. Instead, I find myself speaking.

"A word of advice," I tell him. "Willpower is everything. Without confidence, you can't get very far. Good luck Neville."

He doesn't answer, and I walk away.

* * *

"Okay Slytherin, let's flatten them." Flint grins wickedly, and gestures for us to leave the dressing room.

I am standing to a side, in the shadows. The rest of the team files past me. Alexus is the last. I reach out and tap him on the shoulder, stepping out into the light.

"Hi Harry!" He doesn't sound too cheerful. I can almost see the butterflies in his stomach.

"Relax," I coach. "You're no use wound up so tight."

He glares at me. Alexus and I have become... Close, during our quidditch practice. Almost friends, I could say. Almost.

"Play naturally," I tell him, and walk past.

Flint falls into step besides me. "You better catch that Snitch Potter."

I sigh. "You've made that abundantly clear, captain. I will do my best."

Flint grins. "That should be good enough. On that broom, you're just... Even Adrian shut up."

Adrian Pucey is one of the chasers. He was quite vocal - against my inclusion in the team, until I came to practice and flew on the Nimbus Two Thousand.

The Nimbus Two Thousand. Sleek. Shiny. Sheer class. I mount the broom without another word, and shoot past Flint, rocketing through the narrow corridor. The light at the end grows brighter, larger, and then I arrow out and up into the clear sky. The stands are full of students, and I spot most of the Professors as well.

A massive cheer rises from the green clad students, and even the Hufflepuffs. I catch sight of Sally, Blaise, Tonks, Susan and Hannah sitting together, a massive sign fluttering above them. It reads** "Potter for President"** , with a massive number 10 below. I have a 10 at the back of my robes. Traditionally, seekers wear the number 7, but Alexus wanted that number. So I chose 10 instead. A number, any number - what difference does it make?  
The banner flashes green, then blue, then pink. It feels... Nice. My few nerves are forgotten, and I let myself be lost in the thrill of the game.

I land gently to stand besides the rest of the team. The Gryffindors are eyeing me cautiously, I'm a wildcard here.

"Now, I want a nice, fair game, all of you," she says as we gather around her. She stares as Flint as she says it, and I don't blame her. The Slytherin tactics are quite... Nasty. They have changed a bit though, the inclusion of Alexus means we can play a more technical game. And Flint seemed to take some of my words to heart - I had told him we didn't need to foul to win. Play rough, but play fair.

"Mount your brooms," Madam Hooch says. We do so, and she puts her whistle to her mouth, and raises three fingers. Two fingers. A solitary finger. The whistle blows, and we shoot into the air.

"And they're off, and the Quaffle is immediately taken by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too - "

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry Professor."

I grin and continue to rise. Lee Jordan is the commentator. He, Fred Weasley and George Weasley have quite the reputation for pulling pranks, and being fun-loving clowns.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, Flint has the Quaffle, and off he goes - what a brilliant save by Gryffindor Keeper Oliver Wood - and Gryffindor Chaser Katie with the Quaffle, what a beauty she is - sorry Professor, I meant the..." There is an awkward pause as Lee Jordan tries to come up with something... "Quaffle. A beautiful Quaffle."

Professor McGonagall has no reply to that.

" - And Johnson's in possession, she's shooting down the field - and what's this!"

I have made a move. My Nimbus rockets downward, guided by a subtle touch... Right into the path of Angelina Johnson. I have no intention of crashing though, and continue down. But she is startled, and pulls off course, and now the Slytherin Chasers have fallen back, and are keeping a tight defensive line.

A bludger tries to take my head off, and I have to react quickly to avoid it.

I tune out the commentary, and circle the pitch from high up. The Gryffindor seeker - I do not know his name - hangs about near me. He doesn't shadow me, but he doesn't stray too far away either.

The match is not going too well for Slytherin. For all their brute force, the Slytherin chasers just aren't as good as the Gryffindor trio. The 'Flying Foxes' , as I hear Lee Jordan call them are brilliant fliers, and have an excellent chemistry between them as well.  
Alexus is playing decently. Not his best though, he is too nervous for that.

I lazily dodge another Bludger, and decide to lend a hand. Alicia Spinnet never saw me coming. I dive down from behind, and come up from beneath her, pulling up sharply just ahead of her, then veering off. She brakes hard, and drops the Quaffle in surprise.

"WAIT! Was that the Snitch!"

It is. A speck of gold, wings beating crazily, the Snitch streaks low across the fielding, in a wide arc. I give chase, the Gryffindor #7 ahead of me. The Snitch seems to sense being chased, and rises up sharply. We follow, but I make the rise more efficiently, and now us two seekers are neck to neck, going for the victory.

The Snitch leads us right through the mess of Chasers, who are grouped in one area. Both of us have to swerve away to avoid the other players. A bludger comes my way, and I take my eyes off the Snitch for a moment, looping away to dodge the speeding missile.

I have lost the Snitch, but so has the Gryffindor Seeker. The crowd quiets down as they realize both Seekers have lost sight of the Snitch.

I lean forward and put on a burst of speed, aiming in the general direction of where the Snitch had disappeared.

#7 immediately follows me.

"And what's this? Potter's seen the Snitch! And they're speeding towards the Slytherin goalposts, and - Ouch, that's got to hurt."

The crowd let's out a collective_ ooh_. I was faking. I hadn't really seen the Snitch, and managed to get the Gryffindor Seeker to chase me, and while I just slipped around the middle post, #7 banged his arm on it. It must have been quite painful.

I rise up again, and sweep my eyes over the field. And then, quite suddenly, my broom bucks.

I am jolted up and down, and almost lose my grip. I push down, but my broom responds sluggishly, barely diving. It bucks again, and then again.

The ground seems awfully far away.

"Alexus!" I shout, as he passes underneath.

The Chaser turns his head, in time to see my broom buck violently. I am thrown from the broom, unseated. The crowd gasps, but I still have one hand on the broom. I use the momentum to swing all the way around the broom, switch hands, and regain my seat. A lot harder than it sounds, even for me. Perhaps I should try out for gymnastics? An Olympic Medal would certainly make Selina proud.

Alexus hovers below me. The game has pretty much stopped, everybody is watching me and the wild Nimbus Two-Thousand.

I try to force the broom downwards. For a second, it responds, then suddenly twists around. I completely lose my balance, and am now hanging on with just an arm.

And then I notice it. A little golden ball, with silver wings beating furiously, rising through the air below Alexus.

"Catch me," I yell in warning, then let go of the broom. The shrieks and gasps of tens of students fill the air as I plummet down. I land heavily on Alexus' broom, and manage to hold on to it with a hand, dangling precariously.

"Dive, dive dive!" I order urgently, and Alexus has no choice but to obey. No choice, because already the broom is tilting downwards, under the sudden weight of two people. I am also holding on right at the tip of the broom, making the weight distribution unequal.

Even as we dive, the Snitch turns around, and dives as well. We give chase, Alexus too has seen it. I'm fairly certain the Gryffindor seeker is too far away to catch up.

We gain on the golden ball, but the ground rushes up as well.

"Level off, skim the ground," I shout out above the air howling past us. Alexus slows a bit, and angles the broom.

Eight feet from the ground, I let go. I free-fall through the air, as Alexus pulls up and away.

I flip over once in the air, and land neatly, rolling twice to absorb the impact. I come out of the second roll, and stand upright.

Relieved gasps, then silence. All eyes are on me.

And then, I raise the Snitch.

* * *

I raise a hand to rub my smarting cheek, quite stunned at what has just happened.

I graciously accepted the congratulations of my team-mates, but left the dressing room as soon as I could. Even Adrian Pucey was glowing in the aftermath of the victory. Few things unite people as much as sports.

I just entered the school, made my way down the main staircase, and was immediately confronted by Sally. Behind her stood Susan, Hannah, Blaise and Tonks.

And then she slapped me. Quite hard.

I blink, then blink again. Sally throws herself at me, and my arms encircle her.

I am thoroughly confused now. She has never hit me before.

I look up to see Tonks ushering the others away. She winks at me, and disappears around the corridor.

I decide to remain silent, till Sally speaks.

"You stupid - " unable to find an appropriate word, she growls in her throat. "What was that?"

I have no idea how to appease her. "Uh," I say intelligently. "What was what?"

Wrong thing to say.

She growls again, then releases me and takes a step back. "That crazy stunt! You jumped off your broom!"

Well, it was only a matter of time. I had been hanging from just a hand - but something tells me not to say anything. A man's intuition, I later decided.

"I half want to make sure you never fly again," she tells me, and I have a feeling she is only half joking.

It is touching. She has got so worked up, because of a little risk I took during the match. It shows she cares.

"Mom's going to hear about this," she threatens. "What were you thinking? Okay, so Alexus was below you, but what if he was just a bit off target? And you left his broom in midair, that was crazy! At that speed, from that height!"

"I've trained for more than just six feet off the ground," I say.

Sally makes an exasperated noise and shakes her head. "Besides the point. You do that when it's necessary, not just to catch some ball." Her gaze softens some. "You really enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

I shrug. "It was... Fun."

"I like flying too, and I plan to try out next year," she informs me. "But please, just be careful."

"Sally-" I hesitate. "I never was in any danger. I knew what I was doing."

She turns around, and we walk down the corridor. Her arm is still entwined around mine. It feels comforting. Nice.

"Okay," she says, but I know she doesn't really agree. "Harry, your broom - Tonks thinks someone was jinxing it."

I nod. I didn't need to look around the stands when my broom was bucking because I knew Sally would look for me, and find any potential threats.

"I saw two people staring at you, and muttering under their breath," she says. "Professor Quirrel and Snape."

I frown. Snape... A possibility, but far too obvious. The man hates me, but I know he would not dare do something like this, specially not when he knows what I can do in retaliation. Quirrel however - there is something fishy about him. He talks with a stutter, but I've seen him walk like a man with confidence. And then the incident with the troll - yes, there is something very odd about Quirinus Quirrel.

"Sorry I slapped you so hard," Sally says, and there is a hint of regret in her tone.

"Don't be," I assure her.

"You do know why I did that, don't you?"

I nod._ Because you care_. "You were scared for me. There was no malice on your part. I trust you Sally."

She sighs, as if my trust is a heavy weight. Perhaps it is. This is something to think about. Does she feel responsible for me?

"I know," she says.

We walk on in silence, finally emerging out into the east side of Hogwarts, in what looks to be a deserted section of the castle.

"Do we have to do this now?" Sally complains.

I stop. "Not if you don't want to. This would be the best time. He won't be here, not so soon after the match."

Sally huffs, then pulls me along by my hand. We stop by a small, wooden door. The office of Argus Filch, caretaker.

I have followed Argus Filch on more than one occasion, and the time shadowing the caretaker has been very productive. I found quite a few secret passages, and discovered the location of his office. I have examined this door, and it is purely mechanical. There is no magic involved. The lock is still fairly complex, a hairpin won't open it.

Sally withdraws a small black pouch from within her robes, and unzips it. I idly throw a Jade knife from hand to hand, the gleaming green spinning in midair, reflecting the white light in the corridor.

Sally knows how to pick locks. Selina has taught her quite a bit, and she already knew a lot from her time on the streets. One of the more expensive gadgets in her arsenal makes short work of the lock, and Sally pushes the door open.

One would expect the grouchy caretaker to live in a small, dark place. Filch's office is quite large. It is also mostly bare. A thick carpet covers the floor, shelves and cupboards line the walls. A simple, rather large cream desk lies in one corner. Another door is set into the opposite wall - it probably leads to his living quarters. I have no desire to go there. That is far too private. This office however, Filch gets students in here all the time.

Sally begins going through the stuff on the right, I sweep the left.

We gather quite a few items, and stuff them into a single bag. The bag already contained a couple of odd looking sticks, with colours lighting up here and there on them. Balls that smoke slightly, fireworks, crackers, dungbombs... All sorts of crazy stuff - I have no idea how they work. But I'm fairly certain this is all confiscated stuff... Which means Peeves will love them.

It only takes us a minute or so. Job done, we leave the office, Sally locking the door behind us.

"Look what we have here!"

I slowly turn around. Standing at the end of the corridor, are Fred and George Weasley.

"Hi boys," Sally says calmly. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah," one of them say.

"Fancy that," the other completes.

Both parties take a few steps forward, and we meet in the centre of the corridor.

"Which one of you is Fred?" I ask.

The twins look at each other, then back at me.

"He is!" They both say at the same time.

Sally chuckles.

"Hey, I'm George," the one of the left protests.

"No you're Fred," the other retorted.

"Or maybe we're just Gred and Forge," the first twin says with a shrug.

A tiny grin forms on my face. "So who is Gred?"

"I'm George," says the redhead on the left, grinning widely. "And this my twin brother Fred."

"Absolutely spiffing to see you," Fred says, beaming widely. "Jolly good, jolly good." He sticks out a hand.

A second passes, and Sally shakes their hands. I do the same, carefully observing their faces. There is a very subtle difference in their facial structure. Very, very subtle.

"You have quite the loot there," Fred says, pointing at the bag I carry.

"Yeah," Sally says nonchalantly. "It's for my friend - oh, there he is! Hi Peeves!"

Fred and George stare incredulously at her, and swivel around quickly to stare at the Polterigist who has just joined us.

"Peeves!" Fred exclaims.

"Peeves!" George agrees.

"Peeves!" Fred exclaims.

"Peeves!" George agrees.

Sally laughed, interrupting the rather repetitive cries of wonder. "Yes, that's Peeves."

Peeves floats over to stand by us. He peers at the bag I carry, and beams widely. I set the rather heavy bag down.

"Excellent, excellent!" The Polterigist cries. "You are Peeves' friends, no?"

"We certainly are," Sally confirms, quite enjoying the astounded looks on the twins' faces.

"How?" Fred asks in wonder.

Sally merely smiled. I remain still and silent, by her side.

"You know," George says. "I'm pretty sure some of that loot actually belongs to us."

"Before Filch confiscated it," Fred explains.

"No no no!" Peeves cries.

Sally shrugs and sticks a thumb in his... it's? direction. "Sorry boys, Peeves doesn't want to share."

"Come on, Peeves," Fred cajoles.

"It's for a good cause," George agrees. "We solemnly swear we're upto no good."

A cold sensation spreads through my chest at that. "Where did you hear that?" I demand to know.

"Hear what?" Fred asks, a puzzled look on his face.

Sally puts a hand on my arm, telling me to relax. "That saying... _I solemnly swear I'm upto no good._"

"That's the secret of our success," George says with a smirk.

"Trade secret," Fred adds.

"Yeah, we can't exactly tell you," George says with an apologetic shrug.

"Although I will say we have four very special people to thank," Fred informs us.

"Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail," George says with an exaggerated gesture. "Our heroes."

Again, I feel ice in my stomach. "The Marauders," I whisper.

Both twins now wear guarded looks.

"How did you know that?" Fred asks.

Andromeda Tonks, that's how I know. There is only one possibility -

"You have the Map," I say. "The Marauders Map."

"Okay, everybody calm down!" Sally orders in her best no-nonsense tone, and is rewarded with silence. "Fred, George, that map belongs to Harry. Prongs..." She looks to me.

I nod. It doesn't matter if the twins know. "Prongs was James Potter," I tell them.

Fred and George exchange a look, then pull out an old-looking piece of parchment.

They move closer, and Fred speaks in a conspirational whisper. "This is," he says, his voice low.

"The Marauders Map," George completes.

"You don't want a teacher to catch you?" Fred asks rhetorically.

"Upto no good?" George waggles his eyebrows.

"This is your weapon, your shield," they finish together.

Sally chuckles, and I grin. "Where did you find it?" She asks them.

"Last year," Fred answers

"Dear Argus caught us putting..." George coughs - "doing_ something_-"

"And took us to his office-"

"Where we found this wonderful map."

"Can we borrow it when we want to?" Sally asks.

The twins share another look.

"The way we see it," Fred tells us.

"This is Harry's anyway," George finishes.

"Thank you," Sally says, and I repeat those words... Magic words, Selina tells me_. Please, thank you and sorry_. I also hold out my hand.

Fred hands the map over in slow-motion, while George hums a slow, heroic tune.

Sally laughs at their antics and snatches the map just as Fred is about to let go.

"Sacrilege!" He cries, putting a hand over his heart in mock-horror.

"Show some respect!" George admonishes.

"Thank you," I tell them. "Although you aren't going to get any of the loot we just got."

And that's when they notice Peeves has left. He went quite a while back. Probably got bored. Remarkable, just how low the powers of observation of the average human is.

"Oh well..." Fred shrugs. "So anyway, you tap the map with your wand, and say -"

George removes his wand and taps the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am upto no good."

"And to make the map blank once more," George instructs. "Just tap it again and say, mischief managed."

Even as the redhead speaks, words appear on the parchment.

**_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_**

**_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
_**

**_are proud to present_****_  
_**

** THE MARAUDER'S MAP**

Fred unfolds the parchment to show us lines criss-crossing the parchment. A few seconds later, the complete map of Hogwarts was spread out. Detailed, extensively so. It even shows the grounds. A mass of dots scurry here and there, a tiny name under each one.

I focus on where we are, and see the four of us labelled. _Harry_ Potter, _Sally-Anne Kyle_,_ Fred Weasley_, _ George Weasley_

Sally's name was originally Sally-Anne Perks. After Selina adopted her, she took the name Sally Kyle, though her passport still shows Sally-Anne Kyle. Sally introduces herself as Sally Kyle. She submitted her name at Hogwarts as Sally Kyle, and not Sally-Anne. Why? Only she knows... Or perhaps even she doesn't. Bane once told me women are the most complex things, the one thing no mortal can hope to understand. It was odd. One moment he'd be all serious, an assassin killing someone for failing him. The next second he would kneel by me and give some random pearl of advice.

And then all four of us notice another dot speeding towards us... Labelled as '_Argus Filch'._

Our heads snap up, and we all look at each other. Fred moves first. He folds the parchment, tucks it away, takes a deep breath and beams at all of us.

"RUN!"

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**Thank you for reading, and do leave me feedback. Criticism is welcome, I do want to know what I'm doing wrong.**

**Cheers,  
Timefreak**


	9. Chapter Nine - Harry

**Disclaimer - I own neither the Harry Potter, nor the Batman universe. **

**Sorry about the pitiful length of the chapter - coming to about 3600 words at most. It's just... Real life. Exams. You know how it is. I do try to have at least 4000 words, minimum, but this was just dragging on and on. Read ahead, and tell me what you think.**

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_**Emerald Eye Knight**_

_**Part One**_

**Chapter Nine - Harry**

"I heard Professor Snape will be the referee for your match against Ravenclaw."

I shrug at the bushy haired witch. "You heard right."

"You should be careful," Hermione advises, and I can hear... Concern? - in her voice. "Professor Snape seems to dislike you."

I chuckle lightly at that. "Perhaps," I answer. "Perhaps." It shows just how much Snape dislikes me, that even a teacher's pet like Hermione can notice it, and acknowledge it.

"You'll be fine," Sally says airily, dropping into the seat besides me. She swipes a slice of apple from my plate just as I am about to pick it up.

"There is an entire plate, right in front of you," I inform her.

"I know," she says brightly, then turns her attention to Hermione. "Snape will favor Slytherin all day along, even if Harry's their seeker."

Hermione frowns, but says nothing.

The Gryffindors played Hufflepuff just last week, and it was one long match. The Hufflepuff seeker finally caught the Snitch, but Gryffindor won anyway - by twenty points. Their chasers are definitely the best of all four houses.

* * *

There is a slight drizzle as I eat breakfast at the Slytherin table, on the morning of our next match. Opposite me, Alexus picks at his food, looking up at me every now and then.

"How do you do it?" He finally asks, exasperation in his voice. "You're so damn calm!"

"And you're nervous," I reply evenly.

Alexus stabs an orange rather harshly, then curses as juice spills out over his hand. Never let it be said Hogwarts doesn't serve good fruits.

"Yes," he growls, yanking out his fork. "I am nervous."

"And what do you gain by it?" I ask him calmly.

"Huh?" Is his eloquent reply.

"What do you gain by being nervous?" I ask, and then answer my own question. "Little. It is much better to stay calm." I finish buttering my toast and take a bite. Golden flakes brake off and coat the enamel plate below, and the toast crunches satisfyingly between my teeth.

Alexus frowns. "So you just... Not be nervous?"

"Of course."

"You can't do that," Alexus counters, rather heatedly. The pressure of the oncoming match shows in his body language.

It is my turn to frown. "Why not?"

"You can't choose to be happy, or sad, or nervous, or excited!" Alexus replies. "It just happens!"

I shrug. Staying calm is the more logical, profitable action. So I stay calm.

"As you say," I murmur, then take another bite of the toast. It's really good.

* * *

"I'll be watching Quirrel very carefully," Sally promises.

"You don't have to," I reply, and point out of the window. Even from this distance, it is easy to distinguish Albus Dumbledore striding across the grounds. "Do you see?"

"It's hard to miss him," Sally mutters, studying the old man. He is wearing robes of exceedingly bright orange, interspersed with what looks like blue flowers from this distance. Dumbledore's taste in clothes is always... Colorful.  
Adds to his eccentric persona, I assume.

"Albus Dumbledore is a very powerful_ light_ wizard... With him watching..." I trail off. Nobody will be cursing my broom today.

"Good luck," Sally says softly, and reaches out to hug me. I accept the support gratefully.

She pulls back, and her face is stern now, I can see she isn't joking. "Be safe."

"I will."

* * *

The sun is hidden behind grey clouds. It was drizzling just twenty minutes ago, and the grass sparkles with drops of water. A chilly wind makes my robes billow out behind me. It will be worse in the air. I pull the material tighter around myself, glad for the thermal I have worn underneath.

"Silver linings," Alexus mumbles, looking to bright patch of sky, where the sun hides behind clouds. The edges of those clouds gleam silver and gold, a truly spectacular sight. The clouds shift, and let a few golden rays through. It is almost like a spotlight, ethereal. I can imagine an angel descending down that beam...

Madam Hooch's whistle brings me back to the game.

My instructions are clear. The Ravenclaw chasers aren't very good, with the exception of seventh year Irishwoman, Muller, who is probably the best chaser in the entire school. She could potentially, ruin the game for us, just by herself. I have to find the Snitch, as quickly as I can. I will stay clear of the chasers, I don't have to run interference. Flint is afraid Snape might take any excuse to call me for a foul. I agree with Flint. We need to finish this match as quickly as possible. Racking up the points don't matter that much because of the close match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

I climb on my broom, and gently hover a couple of feet above the ground. Most seekers look for the Snitch from the air, high up.

I fly low, ignoring the players rushing about overhead. Within a few seconds of the start, I hear Lee announce that Muller had scored. No surprises there.  
I almost skim the ground, easily dodging a single bludger.

My eyes scan the ground and the bottom of the stands. I fly around the edge of the ground, looking in between the wooden supports for the Snitch.

The Ravenclaw seeker flies down to see what I am up to. I wouldn't want to disappoint him, would I? I put on a burst of speed, let him catch up, then slow down, jerk right, fly under a support, between two rods, accelerate again.

More than once the opposing seeker is left bewildered by my change of pace and direction. After a while, he realizes I am merely teasing him, and flies around at a distance from me. Not too close, not too far.

Ravenclaw are leading by twenty points now, the score being sixty to forty. Muller has scored sixty.

I slowly gain altitude, looking out for the Snitch all the while. The opposing seeker follows me, and when I shoot up, he gives chase.

Up I shoot, right through the other players, breaking up the play, and allowing Alexus to steal the Quaffle, gaining possession for our team.

I rise up further, and perform a barrel roll to dodge an incoming bludger. I slow a bit, and behind me, the Ravenclaw seeker catches up.

And then I dive. The Ravenclaw seeker is sick and tired of my feinting, and doesn't try to follow me.

Which is good, because I have seen the Snitch.

Snape's eyes widen comically as I shoot towards him, hurtling through the air at insane speeds, easily the fastest person on the pitch. The Potions Master manages to get his limbs working at the last second and dive.

I wouldn't have hit him anyway. I perform a roll as I pass by him, completely inverting myself on the broom, and my hand darts out quickly.

Lee Jordan stresses his vocal cords._ **"And has Potter got the Snitch? Yes, yes he has! Ladies and Gentlemen, introducing eleven year old, Harry Potter!"**_

* * *

Everybody congratulates me as I walk through the corridors.

A real sense of accomplishment, and even pride fills me. The thrill of the sport, the excitement, the entire atmosphere - it gives me a really good feeling. It is nice.

The Slytherin common room is almost unbearably loud. I use my invisibility cloak to get through, and make it to my dorm. Draco and Blaise are waiting for me, massive smiles on their faces.

I remove the cloak in the bathroom, and make straight for my bed.

Blaise almost jumps in surprise as I walk silently past him.

"How do you do that?" He demands.

"Invisibility is an art," I reply, quoting Bane.

"Congratulations!" Draco enthuses. "You'll play for England at this rate." Say what you will about Draco, but he does actually like quidditch.

"I bet Muller plays for Ireland at the next World Cup," Blaise says. I have to agree to that. Muller is a special talent, and I'm fairly sure without factoring in the Snitch, she could even have won the match, carrying her team herself.

I change quickly, dressing in thermals and a plain black robe. I pocket my knives and test my wand holster.

I nod at my dorm-mates on the way out. Used to my sudden arrivals and departures, they say nothing. Blaise nods, Draco waves. While he may have started his offer of friendship because his father has asked him to, he hangs around me and Blaise of his own accord now. That is, when he's not off with Crabbe and Goyle, insulting Ron Weasley. Weasley baiting seems to be his favorite pastime.

He has had to adjust a bit too...

* * *

"Look at her," Draco groans. I swivel my head to see a first year Ravenclaw trying to open a door. She was pulling at the doorknob.

I have learnt a lot in my night travels. This kind of door isn't opened mechanically, you simply say "open" at the face-like etching on the door.

The Ravenclaw girl must be muggleborn, or perhaps half-blood. She doesn't know how to get the door open.

"Mudblood," Draco scoffs.

I hum softly at the back of my throat, barely audible. My gaze turns to Draco, one grey, and one green eye boring into him.

He glances up, and gives a fair impression of a deer caught in headlights.

"My mother was a mudblood," I say pleasantly. "Sally is a mudblood." My tone shifts slightly as I say it, making it sound almost like a question.

Draco opens and closes his mouth. The situation is similar to our encounter on the train.

"Draco," I sigh, and motion for him to walk alongside me. We set off once more, towards Transfiguration. Blaise hovers at my other side, seemingly uninterested in our conversation.

"Who is, quite probably, the smartest witch in our year?" I ask Draco.

"Uh..." He shifts uneasily.

"I'll give you a hint," I offer. "She is in Gryffindor, and has bushy hair."

"Granger?" His tone is slightly incredulous, the name rolls off his tongue almost as an insult.

I nod. "Yes, Granger. While she prefers to learn everything by rote, even that points to a superior intellect. She is smart, in the very least among the top four in our year. Smarter than many purebloods, smarter than most half-bloods..." I press on, even as he opens his mouth to argue.

"Who is the most powerful wizard in our year?" I ask.

The answer comes quickly enough.

"You," Draco replies, and I nod. It is true, after all.

"I am a half-blood," I inform him. "My mother was a muggleborn, and she was one of the best and most powerful witches to graduate from Hogwarts in the past few decades..."

I pause here and hesitate a bit, wondering whether or not to push on. I decide to go ahead. "And there is one more... A halfblood, his name was... Tom Riddle."

Draco gives me a confused look, and I have to hide a smirk. Years of being taught he is superior, years of thinking he is better, all those notions, those ideas... I understand it is difficult for him. For any eleven year old, to be told that the beliefs he has grown up with are wrong...

"I think you'll know him by his other name," I say absently.

"Which is?" Blaise asks curiously.

"Voldemort."

* * *

I meet Sally a little less than forty five minutes after the match is over. She gives me a hug and congratulates me on an excellent catch.

I feel... Warm? It is very nice. I beam genuinely at her.

"Are we going to make a habit of stealing things after every match?" Sally questions.

I shrug. There have been, quite surprisingly, no injuries in today's match. All the staff will be together, including the mediwitch - Madame Pomfrey.

A perfect time to raid her stores.

Peeves met us at the entrance to the hospital wing. I slip out from under the invisibility cloak, leaving Sally hidden.

"Peeves," I greet him.

He here around, startled, then rubs his palms together and pastes a wide smile on his face. "Harry! Peeves almost thought Harry wouldn't come!"

I shrug. "Sorry for the delay... Keep a lookout, alright?"

Peeves nods and salutes me.

Sally pulls the silvery cloak off her the moment Peeves turns away. I fold the cloak carefully. It can be squashed into a really tiny volume, and I slip it into my robes.

Sally pushes open the door to the infirmary and peers inside. She raises a fist, then bends her elbow.

The corners of my mouth twitch upwards. "You're making the wrong signals," I inform her.

"Too many action movies," Sally grumbles. "All clear."

The infirmary is a fairly large room. The walls, ceiling and floor are - of course - white. That too clean smell pervades my nostrils, and I sniff. There about fourteen beds, seven in a line. There are white curtains that can be pulled around each one. A little to the left of the entrance is a small table, on which lies a stand. A hook is attached to the stand, and a bell to the hook. A sign below it reads 'Emergency'. It's a decent enough system. There are probably some charms on the bell, some sort of magical link between the bell and the mediwitch. Madame Pomfrey will be alerted if anyone rings that bell, and will come as soon as she can.

We walk soundlessly through the infirmary. Only one bed is occupied, a stocky boy is sleeping on it. He looks sick, even asleep. The curtains around his bed are only half-drawn, which is why I can even see him.

I needn't have asked Sally to come along. There seems to be no security at all. A door at the far end opens out into a square room, decorated with cream paint. Madame Pomfrey probably gets tired of all the white herself.

There are cabinets all along the sides, and shelves line the walls. There are mostly books here, and a few potions, all labelled.

There are two more doors. One bears the nameplate 'Poppy Pomfrey'. The other is a plain door... White.

The white door is locked. Sally opens her toolkit, and a minute later, it is no longer locked. Proper wards would not have allowed her to pick the lock. The security is very poor. Dumbledore will be getting an anonymous letter soon, advising him to improve the wards here.

Of course, Madam Pomfrey might notice that a few potions are missing. If she's any good, she should know how many of what potion she has, and immediately realize that some aren't there.

This inner room is full of potions. Completely full. The many cupboards aren't locked, so it is easy for me to go through them and take what I want.

Sally isn't very happy with this. I explained to her what I wanted - healing potions, anything useful from in here. I told her I wasn't going to deplete the school's stock. She agreed, but seemed reluctant. If she had disagreed, that would be the end of it.

I snag a few healing salves - for cuts and burns. When Sally isn't looking, I take three vials of a potion labelled 'Dreamless Sleep'

I have Dreamless Sleep potion twice before, courtesy of Andromeda Tonks. It is however quite addictive, and Sally might protest. She hasn't seen, so she hasn't protested. I will be careful when I use it. I quite enjoyed both nights Andromeda gave the potion - the feeling of waking up after a complete eight to nine hours of sleep, with no screams, no insane dark lords or flashes of green light.

I pick up various other stuff - something for headaches, another balm for inflammation... And one potion with a lot of potential. Pepper-up potion, it is called. Seems very useful.

Less than ten minutes later, we are outside again, and I dismiss Peeves, tossing him a few dungbombs as payment. He whooped and flew away down the corridor. Up to no good, no doubt.

* * *

Christmas is near. I dislike Christmas, and Sally and Selina are aware of it.

Nevertheless, it is a chance to go to our flat in London, and meet Selina, stay for a week. We take it.

The prefect seemed quite surprised when I elected not to stay back for the Christmas holidays.

"Where will you go?" He asked. I simply stared at him, and he quickly found other things to do.

I was looking forward to seeing Selina. And then I found it.

It. The mirror.

The Mirror of Erised.

* * *

It is a small, square room, with tables and chairs stacked up against one wall. There is nothing else, except a mirror.

The mirror is massive, standing on two clawed feet, stretching upto the ceiling, and at least five feet wide, with an ornate gold frame. At the top, there is a peculiar inscription.

_'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi'_

I take off my invisibility cloak and take a few steps forward into the room, wincing slightly at a sound my shoes make on the polished stone floor. And here I pride myself on the art of invisibility.

A few more steps, and I am now standing right in front of the mirror.

A shocked gasp escapes my lips, and I whirl around - settling into a defensive crouch, fingers curling around cool Jade, one sparkling knife ready to be thrown.

Nothing. Nobody behind me. Nobody in the room.

Slowly I turn around again, and a strange emotion grips me. Fear. Apprehension. Mixed with a morbid anticipation.

I deliberately avoid looking at the mirror and focus on the words inscribed. It comes to me all too soon.

_'I show not your face but your heart's desire'_

An illusion then. So how did it work? Passive Legilimency?

Magic. That's the simple answer.

I press my palms against the sides of the mirror and lean in close. Someone could slip into the room right now, and I wouldn't notice.

I see a cozy room - the living room of Selina' flat in London. A warm inviting yellow light washes over the occupants, a roaring fire shoots out sparks. Comforting.

I see myself, standing tall, a wide smile on my face. I doubt such a look has crossed my face before. Completely carefree, happy beyond anything I can experience. Content. Both my eyes are green. There is no lightning bolt etched permanently into my forehead.

I see the beautiful woman, standing just behind me - him - dark red hair surrounds soft features, emerald eyes not unlike my own. Her arms come down to surround me, I am almost snuggling into her.

A pang, powerful, leaves me almost panting. Lily Potter. My biological mother. My mother. She is crying, waving, yet happy.

To Lily Potter's right, with a hand thrown casually over her shoulders stands a man. Tall, thin, handsome. Round spectacles. Messy black hair, not unlike mine.

James Potter. My father. He is crying, waving, yet happy.

To Lily's left stands Selina. Her angular features eye me with tenderness. Bruce Wayne holds one of her hands, but his profile is in the shadows. It probably means I want her happy - and she seems happy with Bruce. Selina's other arm is squeezing Sally's shoulder.

Sally Kyle. Dressed in a long, over-sized blue tee shirt and black track pants. Her feet are encased in her favorite shoes - red and white sneakers, not branded. Her face has this expression... Compassion. And... Understanding.

My heart is racing, and a curious mixture of envy, peace and anger fills me. I could sort through those emotions if I wanted to.

I don't. I snarl and turn away, a soft, almost inhumane growl in my throat.

This perfect picture... This cannot be my hearts desire. I am past all this.

I am Knight now. Strong. Powerful. Answerable to nobody, except two. Unbreakable.

"Is that picture so wrong?" A ghost of a whisper in my own mind.

No it isn't. Yes it is.

This shows me, that despite everything, despite my ability, my skill, my power, my willpower, deep down I am still that little kid craving affection. Pathetic.

My lip curls back, and I turn around again. And yet, this perfect Harry Potter, this boy in the picture... Isn't that wonderful?

It's a dream, I remind myself. Fake. Imaginary.

And yet, I stand there, my eyes devouring the party of happy, perfect people, standing out of reach, unattainable.

I shuffle closer, observing all the features that I can see. The cluster of tiny boils above James Potter's left eyebrow. The way Lily Potter's lips curl a bit more on the right than on the left, when she smiles or laughs.

She waves at me, and very, very slowly, I lift a hand.

I wave back.

* * *

**(0)**

* * *

**The scene breaks can be a bit confusing. To anybody who got confused - Draco's scene is a flashback.**

**I do apologize for the chapter length. Honestly. Although, I am trying to update as soon as I can.**

**Over-emotional? Perfect? Do let me know, your feedback is much appreciated. Leave a review, tell me what you think.**

**Cheers,**  
**Timefreak**


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